


The Choices We Make

by corker79



Category: Legend of the Seeker (TV), The Sword of Truth - Terry Goodkind
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 178,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26207317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corker79/pseuds/corker79
Summary: Ever wonder what happened after the rift was sealed at the Pillars of Creation?
Relationships: Kahlan Amnell/Cara Mason, Kahlan Amnell/Richard Cypher
Comments: 1208
Kudos: 894
Collections: Read it!!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to keep Season 2 canon in tact, but I have not watched the Season 1 in a million years, so much of my wider world history is being pulled from the books. I think the biggest difference, which I didn't clue into until I was well into my story, is that on the show, I don't believe Shota ever gave her prophecy that if Kahlan and Richard had a child it would be a Male Confessor. 
> 
> And yes, I could have reworked my outline and just put that early into this story, but I didn't feel like it, so that has already happened. Lets say sometime before Cara came along and made everything better.
> 
> I don't know how long this is going to be yet, but I'd say at least 20 Chapters
> 
> Thanks to Mistresserin for reading over my first few chapters and convincing me it wasn't a dumpster fire and to let other humans see it. Its been a long time since my fingers hit the keyboard.

Cara hefted her pack and took one last glance at the ruins, as they slowly turned away from the Pillars of Creation and began the long trudge back through the desolate waste. Frankly, the view suited her mood. Sure, they just saved the world, but as she watched Richard atop his horse, laughing to his grandfather as he led the way back towards the decimated village, she just couldn’t find it in her to join the celebration. 

She watched Richard’s eyes trail back towards Kahlan and his triumphant smile somehow grew even wider. Her stomach twisted. Maybe she had a bug. 

Cara’s eyes followed to the Mother Confessor riding a few paces behind to her left. She was offering Richard a small, all be it tired smile in return. Shoulders slouched, dark around the eyes, Kahlan looked exhausted. She supposed an afternoon of running around the countryside in a confessed Con Dar would do that to a woman. 

It was quickly decided that staying at the Pillars would not be a wise move considering Darken Rahl was still prowling around and knew of their destination. Cara gripped an Agiel. He would need to be dealt with sooner rather than later. But she couldn’t argue that after everything that had happened, they needed to regroup. First stop was that graveyard of a village where Nicci’s body lay.

There, a couple more horses lay in wait, left behind after Kahlan had the other Mord-Sith kill each other. And, more importantly, they needed to dispose of Nicci’s body. Needed to try and keep that cursed wench from making yet another return from the underworld. 

Cara glanced back up at the exhausted Confessor staring listlessly into the back of her mount’s head. She gripped her Agiel harder and let the pain vibrate up her arm. On second thought, another chance to end that conniving bitch wouldn’t be the worst thing. 

Cara angled over to walk along side and pulled the waterskin from her pack. “Mother Confessor,” she pulled out the cork and held it up as Kahlan’s eyes jolted back to focus, “you should drink.”

Life returned to the brunette’s eyes when she reached down to take the skin with a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you Cara.” She took a small sip and made to return it, but Cara pushed it back.

“More.”

A small smirk now played at the corner of the Confessor’s mouth, “are you concerned for my health Cara?”

That was met with a scowl. “I am concerned that you have been running around the desert all day like a rabid dog, and if you don’t hydrate you will fall off your horse and delay our return to civilization.” 

At that, Kahlan laughed, and Cara had to push down the feeling that she won something. This whole day had her off balance. Too much chasing, not enough fighting. She needed food and rest, and maybe to punch somebody… her train of thought cut off at the Confessor taking a long pull of water. Throat bobbing, a few beads of moisture escaping to trail down her neck.

Distracted, Cara didn’t notice the broken piece of marble sticking out from the sand and proceeded to clip her toe and stumble-step forward. Turning her head to glare at the offending stone, she caught Kahlan from the corner of her eye, hand flying to her mouth to contain both water and laughter. Cara was torn between Agieling the rock or Agieling the Confessor. In the end she just scowled at them both.

“Cara, if you are so worried about our speed, perhaps you should get on a horse.” This time when Kahlan offered the waterskin she snatched it back with a grunt and took a long sip herself.

Back at the Pillars, when deciding how to share the three mounts, Richard of course had, with all the chivalry he could muster, offered to ride with Kahlan. But the sudden twisting feeling in Cara’s gut told her that it be best she kept her feet on the ground for a while. With an “I’ll walk, I’m sick of horses,” she began moving, leaving no room for an argument.

“Are you sure you don’t want to ride,” Kahlan asked drawing her back to the present. “These are strong Keltish mounts,” she affectionately stroked her horse’s neck, “two riders would be nothing for a short distance.”

Unwittingly Cara’s eyes returned to Richard who was once again beaming back at the Mother Confessor like he held the keys to the entire world in his hands. In some ways, she supposed, as Kahlan again returned it with a tired smile of her own, he did. 

“It’s fine,” she replied tersely, banishing her own thoughts, not willing to follow where they might go. “It’s hardly a league and I want to stretch my legs.” She shook off the tight feeling and smirked up at the Confessor. “We didn’t all get to take out an entire cell of Sisters of the Dark today.” 

“Well,” Kahlan teased, fingers stroking idly through the horse’s dark mane, “maybe if you weren’t struggling to keep up, I would have saved you some. I really expected more stamina out of a Mord Sith.”

Cara’s eyes flashed up indignantly in reflex, defensive at the ready, but quickly she shifted to offense. “I assure you Mother Confessor I have more _stamina_ than you can handle.” Watching the blush slowly creep across the Confessor’s cheeks, Cara finally let wash that sense of victory eluding her since the Pillars. “And if I was struggling for anything,” she added, “it was not to be struck down by projectile confession.”

The blonde smirked at her own clever words, but it withered as the playful smile on the Confessor’s face fell away. She caught Kahlan’s eyes flicker at the Seeker briefly and then once again, her entire body radiated with fatigue.

Cara frowned. Sure, _all powerful love_ was not something to get the Mord Sith’s smallclothes in a knot. But love trumping confession, then leaking out a new stone of tears, all seem right up the Mother Confessor’s sentimental alley. With all her touching and feelings and such. Perhaps she was still upset with putting her dagger through Richard’s chest. It had been a good clean kill, and he was brought back unscathed, but people got weird about dying for some reason. The ghosts of being confessed to Nicci were likely also bearing weight. Cara cracked her neck and darkened. Not controlling your own will was its own special breed of underworld.

A roar of laughter from ahead drew Cara’s attention. Did the Seeker not notice his _one true love_ was struggling? She let out an irritated sigh. Following Richard was the best decision, maybe the only decision she had ever made for herself, but sometimes he was oblivious. As usual, it was up to her to fix things in the Lord Rahl’s absence.

Cara reached for Kahlan’s calf. Tired eyes looked down in confusion. “Mother Confessor, you must not fret.” Cara gave her leg a quick squeeze, looking solemn. “I would never allow you to confess me against your will.”

Kahlan stared a long moment, then barked out a laugh. Cara gave her calf one more quick squeeze then moved away. With the desecrated village coming into sight, she decided maybe she had accomplished something important that day after all.

\------------------

“Are you sure she was dead?”

“Of course she was dead! Do you think I don’t know dead when I see it?” Cara kicked a ceramic pot across the room, shattering it against the far wall.

“That’s not going to help Cara,” Richard reprimanded softly. But Cara didn’t care. She was seething. She should have had the foresight to deal with Nicci in the moment. She didn’t even have it in her to blame the wizard. It was to be expected that he be consumed by his _feelings_ and worry for the Mother Confessor. But she was Mord Sith and was above such distractions.

At least she was supposed to be.

Kahlan’s hand came to rest on her shoulder and she felt some of the fight drain out of her. “It’s not your fault Cara.”

Cara just shook her head and continued to stare at the bloody stain where Nicci’s body should be.

“This is my fault Cara,” Zedd supplied, “it would have taken me an eye blink to burn the body, but…” he trailed off.

“There is no one at blame,” the Seeker interrupted, running his hand through his hair. “Things were moving quickly, and the important thing is the outcome. We stopped the Keeper and sealed the rift.”

Cara mindlessly gripped her Agiel. Of course the man who handed the Stone of Tears to the Keeper would happily take solace in the outcome. But Nicci running around unchecked was no small problem. No small problem that was now her responsibility. Cara felt a tug on her arm and followed the offending hand up a dark sleeve, to a frowning face.

Kahlan wordlessly eyed the clutched Agiel. Cara rolled her eyes but dropped it.

“Maybe she returned as a baneling,” Zedd asked hopefully, gazing out the window. “She wouldn’t have made it far before the rift was sealed and the Keeper lost that power.”

Richard grimaced as he moved to stand closer to Kahlan and put his arm around her waste, “Unlikely. She turned her back on the Keeper, I doubt he would be offering up any deals for her again.”

Cara didn’t miss how the Confessor immediately stepped forward to comment, as if not noticing the Seeker’s gesture. “If the Keeper is against her, that probably rules out Sisters of the Dark. Meaning…” her gaze fell on Cara.

“Meaning she was most likely brought back with the breath of life,” Cara finished, bending down in front of the bloody stain, her fingers sliding through the dirt floor, looking for what they missed. “There,” she pointed, “and there. Those boot marks are Mord-Sith.”

Richard raised an eyebrow in question, bending down beside her. “Those aren’t yours?”

“No,” she gestured around. “Zedd and I were in and out, these are all around the room.”

The Seeker pointed back over his shoulder through the door. “Well, there were other Mord Sith with you.”

That earned the Seeker an eye roll. “And they are outside dead where we left them.”

Again Richard ran his hands through his hair, then rose and dusted them off on his pants, “so that means Rahl has Nicci.”

Cara nodded once and rose as well.

It was the Seeker’s turn to shatter pottery with his boot, before storming out the door into the square.

Kahlan moved to follow but turned back to the Mord-Sith curiously, “If Rahl was with Mord-Sith, why would he not,” she gestured out the door, “raise them?”

“Punishment for some perceived failure? Simply because he didn’t think they were worth the time? Dying for the Lord Rahl is what Mord-Sith do,” Cara said blankly, “If the Lord Rahl chose not to have them revived it would not be questioned, only seen as a final fulfillment of duty.”

Kahlan shared a long look with Cara, then the wizard, before following the Seeker out the door.

Zedd took a deep breath. “This place is tainted with death. We should burn the village.”

Cara nodded, glaring one more time at the bloody stain mocking her in her failure, then set to helping with the task.

\------------

Unfortunately, the extra horses went the way of Nicci, and shortly after, they were on the road again with three. Much to her surprise, Cara found herself pressed against the Mother Confessor’s back, and at the Mother Confessor’s insistence no less. She scowled at the back of Kahlan’s head as if it could give her answers.

Closed off since the revelation Darken Rahl had taken Nicci, the smile returned full force to Richard’s face as he reached down a hand to help Kahlan to his mount. But the Confessor simply took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “It would be unwise to burden the horses more than necessary when we don’t know what’s coming next. The lightest should ride together.”

Richards smile faded, but he reluctantly nodded his agreement as Kahlan walked to an already mounted Cara and reached up her hand. Cara eyed her suspiciously but helped her up anyway. And now, she was bobbing down the road, with a dozy Confessor between her legs, desperately trying to keep her hands on her own thighs and her thoughts in an honourable place.

The Mord-Sith had been ready to tear after Rahl and Nicci the second she put it all together, but any trace of a trail had been washed away from the sand by the winds. So, Zedd had suggested they continue as planned to the nearest living village to regroup and resupply before making any decisions. It was a full day’s ride in the opposite direction of D’hara, but she had to admit, it was strategically sound. They didn’t know for sure that was were Rahl was headed, and though as Mord-Sith she was strong enough to continue, over the course of her quest she learned the limits of her companions, and they were spent.

It was both worrisome and fortunate to have Nicci and Rahl in the same place. It meant not having to chase them down separately, but nothing good could come of those two together. Rahl was likely after Nicci’s immense Han. A shutter went through Cara at the thought. With that kind of power, he would re-establish the bond and rule with a vengeance. She shuttered again. A Rahl with Confessor power.

From beside her, Zedd spoke her thoughts aloud. “Rahl is likely after Nicci’s han. We can’t let that happen. With that kind of powerful magic at his disposal who knows what he’d do.”

Cara couldn’t help a smirk when Kahlan’s head jerked up at the interrupting noise before slumping forward again.

The Seeker let out an audible sigh from ahead and muttered something about the Westland. Cara frowned and urged her horse forward. The Confessor began to slide sideways compelling Cara’s hands to her waist. Cara scowled at her hands then forced her attention back to Richard. “The wisest course of action would be to make for D’hara and claim your throne. Darken will be easier to find, and easier to defeat with an army and the Mord-Sith at your side.”

“Cara,” he said impatiently, “you know I will not take the throne.”

“But Lord Rahl...”

“Don’t call me that!” he snapped back, once again causing Kahlan’s head to snap up.

“Sorry,” Kahlan muttered, as she glanced around sleepily, trying to find her place in the conversation. The Mord Sith and the Seeker took in the exhausted Confessor then shared a look of understanding. This conversation could wait.

Cara let her mount fall back, then considered the drooping heap in front of her. If they pushed today, it would ensure they’d make the village by noon of the next. This far south it would be several candle marks before dark, so several marks before they stopped. With a sigh and an eye roll, she slid her arms around the brunette and urged her to lay back. “Sleep Confessor,” she insisted quietly. 

Kahlan’s body came without protest but with a murmured, “but we need to stop Rahl.”

Cara’s mouth twitched into a half smile at her sleepy determination. “We’ll get him in the morning Kahlan.”

“Okay.” The Confessor patted Cara’s arms and burrowed in a little further. Then she was out.

When Cara readjusted herself to more comfortably support her delicate cargo, she caught the wizard’s quizzical gaze. “What?” she glared at Zedd.

He put his hands up defensively, “nothing,” then quickly trotted ahead to join Richard with amusement dancing across his features.

Cara made note to accidentally Agiel him awake later for his watch.

\--------------  
The clouds to the west were now tinged in orange, indicating the sun would be up shortly. Cara threw log on the embers of the fire and jammed it with her stick. She glanced around at her sleeping companions. Kahlan laid curled in a ball, in the same position she went to sleep in the night before. When they arrived at camp she was roused long enough to eat, before almost immediately succumbing to fatigue once more. It wasn’t surprising.

Mord-Sith training was extensive on the subject of Confessors. The Con Dar was almost unheard of in practice, but it was said most Confessors who entered the blood rage also succumbed to it. Giving themselves over completely to the pursuit of whatever transgression pulled them into the frenzy in the first place.

Of course, Kahlan was not most Confessors. Still it must have been an exhausting endeavor, to be confessed and in the Con Dar simultaneously. Zedd felt it could be several days, or even weeks before Kahlan was back up to full strength. When Cara volunteered for her usual first watch, it was agreed that Kahlan would not be given a shift that night. Little did the others know, none of them would be taking a shift that night.

They all needed rest. It was Cara’s duty to ensure they got it. Her eyes moved from the slumbering Confessor to Richard, his bedroll pulled near to Kahlan’s, his hand reaching across the gap between them. Richard. The Seeker. The Lord Rahl. Cara shook her head and jabbed the fire again in frustration. They argued again briefly last night, while collecting wood, over the merits of claiming the D’haran throne. But Richard shut it down quickly, citing his refusal to become a tyrant and desire to settle down with Kahlan and start a family.

She rubbed her eyes before pinching the bridge of her nose and wondered if he had run the whole “settling down” plan by the Mother Confessor and, Cara squinted, currently drooling, ruler of the Midlands.

Cara filed that useful bit of information away with a smirk then returned to the problem that was her Lord Rahl. His refusal to accept his duty was going to cost lives. Had already cost lives. But if Darken Rahl managed to absorb Nicci’s Han, it was going to cost so much more. D’hara was not an evil place. It had been bent, not unlike herself, to the will of monsters. Its people subjected to all the pain and suffering inflicted on its neighbours, and then so much more. Now it was in disarray. Once again being exploited for power and profit. Desperate for leadership. And Richard’s refusal to accept the bond left it open to any potential Rahl bastard wandering around looking for power to claim.

She threw her stick in the fire and pulled out an Agiel. Rolling it in her hands, focusing on the pain clearing her head. She would do everything she could to stop Darken Rahl, but succeed or fail, she would never again allow herself to be bent to his will, or the will of any other so-called Lord Rahl.

Finally, her eyes fell to Zedd. The wizard staring straight up at the sky as if wide awake, probably dreaming of the food he will consume when they reach Portree. It would take powerful magic indeed to break the bond. Good thing she knew where to find some.


	2. Chapter 2

Kahlan took a long sip of her tea, retracing in her mind how exactly she got to this point. She watched Richard as he stood across the tavern waving his arms in exuberant sword motions, recounting their adventures to a group of eager villagers. Zedd sat eating a bowl of stew, nodding along to the Seeker’s story, adding a few words before tearing into another piece of bread. 

Richard caught her eye and a smile lit his entire face as he gestured in her direction. She returned his smile as cheerfully as she could manage. The Seeker had earned this moment of respite and she did not wish to dampen it for him. So she forced onto her face that which was looming would not allow her to feel. Nicci. Rahl. And she wasn’t even close to being ready to process what not being able to confess Richard meant. 

To say she felt off kilter since the Pillars would be an understatement. Most of the last two days existed in a fog. Learning exactly what confession felt like was a life lesson she could have happily done without. She always knew what it was her power did. It wasn’t a secret. She never lied to herself, never let herself believe it was anything less than consuming another person’s soul. Consuming their identity. But experiencing it… Kahlan hefted out a sigh and ran her hand over her face. 

And if feeling the weight of confession wasn’t unsettling enough, the intensity of being confessed _and_ in the Con Dar left her feeling completely hollow. The exhaustion pierced her to the bone. 

Using her power again so soon after probably hadn’t helped things.

Her eyes turned to Cara, currently leaning over the bar scaring the wits out of the inn keeper. This time a small genuine smile pulled at her lips. If somebody had ever told her she’d spend half a day a top a horse, sleeping in the arms of a Mord-Sith, she would have had them taken to an asylum to care for their madness. 

But now it seemed almost natural. They had saved each other’s lives so many times. Spent months travelling together, then when Richard was gone, depending on each other. Sure Cara would grumble and gruff, but she was always the first one there. Watching. Protecting.

She had woken that morning to Cara watching over them by the fire. In pretty much the same place she had been when Kahlan had fallen asleep the night before, it didn’t take long to realize that the Mord-Sith had taken it upon herself to watch camp the entire night. Cara seemed almost entranced, rolling her Agiel in her hands, staring deep into the flames as Kahlan extracted herself from her bedroll and moved to sit beside her. 

After greeting her good morning and receiving only a distracted grunt in return, Kahlan reached to still the Mord-Sith’s hands. Even through Cara’s gloves she could feel the sting of the Agiel radiating up her arm, but it got the blonde’s attention.

“Kahlan _are you mad_?” Irate green eyes fired up as she tried to pull her hand away, but Kahlan’s held firm.

“I’m not the one inflicting pain on myself.”

“I beg to differ,” Cara again pulled at their joined hands. 

Kahlan just arched an expectant brow and gripped harder. 

Cara rolled her eyes, “fine.”

Kahlan released her hand with a small victorious smile and the Mord-Sith sheathed the Agiel. They both stared into the fire. 

Resisting the urge to roll her shoulder and release some of the tension left by the Agiel, Kahlan couldn’t resist comment. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“I’m hardly in danger from my own Agiel Confessor,” Cara dismissed. But as the silence went on, conceded, “The pain centres me when my mind is clouded.”

“You could try talking about it,” she offered quietly.

The blond shot her a look of pure scorn. “I thought you wished me to not be in pain.”

At that Kahlan laughed, the tension was gone, and Cara rose, pulling her bow up from behind her, “I’ll go find breakfast.”

Kahlan quickly grabbed her wrist. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Of course.” she scoffed, but her eyes flickered quickly over the Seeker and the wizard. “There is much to think upon.” 

Kahlan nodded and let her go. There is indeed, she thought, as Cara disappeared into the trees and the Seeker began to stir.

\---------------

It wasn’t long before everyone was roused, fed, and on the road, but not before the boyish grin of the Seeker tried to entice her to take a “walk” for some “fresh air”. Kahlan was only half successful at forcing down her irritation. She was the Mother Confessor of the Midlands for crying out loud. Did he really expect her to skip off into the woods, roll over on the ground and hike up her skirt the moment he deemed himself immune to confession? 

Though she supposed that is exactly what one of her halves did when they realized she was without her Confessor power. Kahlan’s eye twitched at the non memory. 

This was her own fault really. It had been so easy to get caught up in the fantasy of it all, fighting every day for their lives, in the face of the overwhelming odds of losing to the Keeper. It was easy to forget there was a future. Take comfort in the touches and the kisses. To just live in the moment. Forget about consequences and duty. 

Much to consider indeed.

But Kahlan was still weary from her ordeal and not ready to confront those difficult realities, or what they might mean for her future with the woodsman, so for now she hid behind her fatigue.

The dejected look on Richard’s face caused a swell of guilt through the Confessor. She couldn’t exactly blame him for his excitement. So when he once again requested she ride with him, she acquiesced and spent much of the morning cradled in his strong arms as he recounted an endless list of places in the Westland he desired to take her. 

Not for the first time she wondered if Richard had listened to anything she told him about what it was to be a Confessor. To be the Mother Confessor. 

Cara and Zedd were trailing a bit behind, deep in conversation. Kahlan had never seen the Mord-Sith listen so intently to the wizard before, no trace of her usual sarcastic banter, nodding along solemnly as he talked. She knew the blonde was feeling unnecessarily responsible for Nicci, but something more was going on. Her thoughts were disturbed by a pair of lips on her cheek and then her neck. She stiffened and straightened as strong fingers gripped her thighs. “Richard! We’re in the middle of the road and Cara and Zedd…”

Richard laughed, brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck again, “Zedd is happy for us, and I hardly think Cara is worried about impropriety.”

Kahlan pushed Richard’s hands back to a safer location and pulled her body away. Now it was Richard’s turn to stiffen. “Kahlan,” the hurt in his voice was tangible, “what’s going on? You’ve been… off since we left the Pillars.” 

“I’m not…” she bit off her growl with a sigh, she really wasn’t ready to talk about this. She still wasn’t even sure what she felt about this. She reached back and grabbed his hand in apology, “you’re right. I’m tired in a way I didn’t think possible. But Richard, its not proper for the Mother Confessor to be so… public,” she fumbled for words.

His boyish grin returned as he clasped her hand and brought it to his lips. “You don’t have to worry Kahlan, nobody is around for leagues.”

If on cue, red leather reared in front of their horse. Before Kahlan could even process what had happened, Cara was off her mount and charging, Agiels first, into the forest. 

By the time the rest of them had dismounted and caught up, Cara had one Sister of the Dark, on the ground, pinned under her boot, slowly bleeding out around the Dacra stuck in her chest. The Mord-Sith jabbed her Agiel into the dying woman’s stomach, “where’s Nicci, where’s Rahl!”

The sister coughed and spat. Cara pressed harder and the sister let out a scream.

“Cara! Stop.” Richard ordered.

Cara glowered, removed the Agiel but not her eyes from the sorceress, “We have no leads. We need information.” She pushed down with her boot, “and she isn’t going to last long.”

“We don’t need to torture her Cara. Kahlan will confess her.”

The Mord Sith’s head tilted up, frown deepening, “the Mother Confessor can barely stay on a horse, and you wish her to use her power again?”

Richard hesitated like he hadn’t thought of that and glanced at Kahlan.

“Cara’s right.” Zedd advised. “The amount of time Kahlan spent in the Con Dar, using her power again so soon could set her back days in recovering.”

A gurgling grunt from the Sister called all eyes to attention. Kahlan sighed. She was bone tired. But Cara was right. They did need information. “Its fine,” she stepped forward, “this is important.”

Cara eyed her but didn’t argue and moved clear. Kahlan bent down and took a deep breath before grabbing the sister by the throat and loosing her power. Thunder without sound, the Sister’s eyes swirled black. 

“Command me Confessor,” the Sister coughed out as Kahlan stumbled back.

No sooner was the magic clear than strong gloved hands were at her waist and elbow to steady her. Green eyes fixated on blue. Kahlan lightly brushed the fingers gripping her elbow to silently convey she was alright, then the Mord-Sith stepped back again.

Richard was already, pointlessly, trying to question the Sister. “Who sent you? Where’s Rahl?”

The confessed Sister only looked dotingly on Kahlan as she continued to fade. “Answer his questions,” she said quietly, trying to fend off a wave of nausea. The Sister of the Dark strained to comply.

“Nobody sent me mistress. Darken Rahl betrayed the Keeper, if I knew where he was, I would have killed him myself.” A look of pure despair consumed the Sister’s face. “I am so sorry Mistress. I tried to kill you. Please forgive me. Please let me...” her pleas cut off in another bought of watery coughs.

“Why did you try to kill me?”

“Because you are the greatest enemy of the Keeper, Mistress. You thwarted his plans. For revenge. Please. I’m so sorry.”

“Do you know where Nicci is?” Richard jumped in again.

The Sister waited for her Mistress to nod her permission to answer, “No.”

“Do you know what Rahl and Nicci would be doing together?” Kahlan asked.

“No Mistress.”

Kahlan glanced around trying to think of anything else to ask. Zedd stepped forward, “Do you know of any way that Rahl could attain Nicci’s immense Han?”

The Sister looked at Kahlan again and the Confessor let out a frustrated breath. “answer him.”

“No wizard. A Dacra could not move that much power, especially into one no Han. It would destroy him. I don’t know. It… maybe a powerful, ancient magic.” She sputtered and looked with pleading eyes to the Confessor, “I’m sorry Mistress. I don’t know, I don’t…” with one last cough her body stilled.

Cara kicked at her shoulder. “she’s dead.”

Three sets of eyes shot to her, and she shrugged.

Richard ran his hand through his hair, “that didn’t give us much, other than confirm neither Nicci or Rahl are working for the Keeper. I say we continue on to Portree as planned. We can resupply and decide what to do next.”

Kahlan was only half listening as the adrenaline of using her power ebbed and exhaustion came over her like a wave.

“I’ll burn this one,” Zedd offered. “The Keeper may not have the powers he did when the veil was torn, but no need to risk a Sister of the Dark returning.” 

Next thing Kahlan knew she was standing in front of a mounted Richard with hand extended down to help her up. When she moved to brace her foot in the stirrup, she slipped back down. For the second time steady gloved hands were at her back. This time Kahlan whispered a thank you. The Mord-Sith simply nodded and guided the Confessor to mount.

A half mark down the trail, as Kahlan began to doze off in Richard’s grasp, she couldn’t help but note the difference to another pair of steady, strong arms.

\-------------------

Now they took rest in a small inn, in the tiny village of Portree. A plan was set. With no better lead, they would head in the general direction of D’hara. Zedd and Richard would set out in the morning. Sweep to the west, on their way north, through the more heavily populated areas along the Callisidrin River, hitting up as many towns as possible for news on Rahl. Cara and Kahlan would take rest for a few days, allowing the Confessor time to recover, then take a more direct route north. They would all meet in a fortnight in Galloway, a small town nestled in the mountain passes to the south of Brennidon. Hopefully with some guidance on where to go next. 

Kahlan drained the remains of her tea and noted the dark streaks of dirt marring her hand and wrist. Right now all she hoped for was a bath and a bed. Cara finally finish her heated discussion with the inn keeper and was sauntering back across the room to join her. 

“What was that all about,” she smiled.

“I have arranged a bath.” Cara sat down beside her in a huff, “it will be ready for you in half a mark.”

At the word bath, half the tension in Kahlan’s body dissipated, “Cara, I could kiss you.”

Cara’s lips tweaked into a smirk as she gave her a sidelong glance. “I would allow it Mother Confessor, but I’m afraid it would ruin the Seeker for you forever.”

Kahlan ignored the twinge of discomfort at the mention of Richard and opted instead to indulge in the distracting banter. Determined not to give into the Mord-Sith’s attempts to embarrass her, she pushed forward to put her elbow on the table and pressed her cheek into her hand. “How do you know _I_ wouldn’t be the one ruining _you_ for the rest of the populous?”

Kahlan felt an odd sense of pride when her remark pulled a rare genuine laugh from the Mord Sith. “Careful Kahlan, I think I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Mmm, you wish.” The innuendo left her mouth before she could stop it. By the time Cara’s head fully tilted in disbelief, Kahlan was sure her face was a deeper scarlet than the Mord-Sith’s leathers. 

Mortified, she shook her head vigorously, imploring Cara to let it pass.

Mercifully, this was the moment the barmaid chose to arrive with two pints of ale. 

“Your ale Mistress Cara,” she stammered, “and your bath will be ready presently as requested.”

It took two tries for the Mord-Sith to tear her eyes from Kahlan and nod at the barmaid. Kahlan didn’t miss how the young woman almost tripped over herself moving away from the table. “What did you say to them, Cara?” she asked, trying to push the conversation past her embarrassment. 

“Nothing,” she muttered and pulled forward the pint glasses.

“Cara.”

“I requested a bath, and when they said it would be a mark, I simply pointed out the many health benefits of drawing the water more quickly.”

“ _Cara_ ,” she admonished, half amused at Cara being Cara.

The Mord-Sith offered a self-satisfied smirk and took a sip from one of the wooden mugs.

“You know I can’t drink that, right?” Kahlan nodded at the other pint sitting between them. 

Cara frowned and drew the second pint closer. “Good, because its not for you.”

Kahlan laughed. “My mistake.”

“What? If I’m stuck in this Creator forsaken speck on the map for the next couple days, I’m going to take what enjoyment I can.” And as if to prove the point, Cara downed half of her first pint.

Kahlan began tracing the wood grain on the table, she wasn’t exactly excited about staying behind either, but she knew she was at her physical limit. It wouldn’t do anyone any good for her to go charging off and potentially put them all in danger because she wasn’t at her best. “If it’s going to be so hard for you to be stuck here Cara, I am sure Zedd would be happy to keep me company. You could go with Richard.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nicci and Rahl are running around doing Creator knows what. Sisters of the Dark are wandering aimlessly looking for revenge. It is my duty to be here to counter the magic if they were to show up and try anything.”

Kahlan smirked and leaned into her hand again, enjoying Cara’s projection, “all that danger, shouldn’t your _duty_ be protecting the Lord Rahl, not sitting around caring for a weary Confessor?” 

“Lord Rahl has ordered me to protect you as I would him,” the blonde muttered as if it were obvious.

“Of course,” the Confessor nodded; tone slightly patronizing.

The Mord-Sith shot her a disdainful glare out of the corner of her eye, “I think your bath is ready Confessor,” and polished off the rest of the pint. 

“What’s going on?” Richard approached, a playful smile spreading on his face, as he took in Cara’s frown and Kahlan’s satisfied grin.

“Oh nothing,” Kahlan rose and hugged an arm around the Mord-Sith’s shoulders, “Cara was just telling me how much I mean to her.”

Richard’s smile blossomed into a full blown grin. Cara slammed her hand on the table and began to stand up “If you would rather sit here and spew nonsense, I for one, would love to be clean.”

“No!” Kahlan firmly pushed the Mord-Sith back into her seat with a laugh. “No, I’m going.”

“You’re going to bed already?” Richard’s smile faded, “I thought maybe we could spend some, you know time, before we have to part.”

Kahlan thought maybe if he was so worried about that, he could have spent a little less time boasting to the villagers but chose not to mention it. The fatigue was obviously making her irritable. She made her way around the table to engage the Seeker, “Richard, I am exhausted.” She rubbed his shoulder, “I just want to be clean and to sleep. But I promise, I will have breakfast with you before you depart.”

His smile returned a little, “I miss you already.” And before she could respond, he pulled her into a kiss. 

She returned it rather stiffly and broke it off even quicker. Richard looked confused. Cara was unreadable. “Good night Richard,” she smiled, “Good Night Cara.” Kahlan quickly kissed the Seeker on the cheek one last time and went upstairs. 

\----------

A pathetic whimper escaped her throat as she took in the steaming tub sitting next to a gently glowing fireplace. She sat on the bed and began pulling off her boots. The stiffness in her shoulders protested. Every movement was increasingly a chore. After making quicker work of her dress and corset, she crossed the room and stepped into the bath.

As she slowly sunk into the water, she vowed never again to take for granted the baths of the Confessor’s Palace. When she finally made it back to Aydindril, maybe she’d give the girls who drew the water a place on King’s Row. Kahlan let her hair fall over the back of the tub and closed her eyes. Let the warmth of the water soak in, let all her worries float away with the rising steam. It only took moments before she was relaxed enough to begin drifting off. 

So her head jerked up violently at the sound of the door opening, arms flying to cover herself. Cara strut in, ale in hand, and unceremoniously took a seat on the chair sitting at the end of the bed. A chair only a few feet away. Kahlan watched stiffly, with her arms across her chest, while Cara reached under the bed, pulled out her pack and began rummaging. 

“Cara!” she squeaked.

“Yes Confessor?”

“What…” Kahlan sunk a little lower as green eyes rose up to meet her, “what are you doing?”

She answered with a wicked smirk. “I _care_ far too much about your well being Confessor, to allow you to go unguarded in your weakened state. I will clean my leathers while you bathe”. The Mord-Sith straightened back in her chair, now with a small bottle and cloth in her lap, and took a long pull of ale.

Kahlan took a long breath. 

This was obviously payback for the teasing in the tavern. “Is this really necessary?”

“More so than I thought. I see one,” Cara quirked an eyebrow and unabashedly took in the visible portion of the Confessor, “ _vulnerable_ Confessor, who is apparently so tired, she cannot remember to lock a door, or keep her daggers by her side.”

Kahlan could feel herself flush. She flushed at the leering. Flushed at her daggers laying on the bed, out of reach. And then flushed further knowing that was exactly the reaction Cara was after. A momentary stare down ensued, but Kahlan knew she couldn’t win this. Not when battling wills with Cara was like trying to move the Rang’Shada Mountains, and she was cowering naked in a tub. With a resigned sigh, she sat back and reached for the soap. Cara sat back and began removing her boots.

Angling her back as best she could away from the Mord-Sith she started lathering the soap down her arms and legs, watching trails of dirty water fall away like branches of a river. When she reached back for the cloth, she lost her grip on the side of the bath and slipped down, splashing water over the sides.

Cara, a foot away, had her leathers off and was pulling a shift over her head. 

“Cara!” The brunette reeled back toward the fire.

“What?”

“You’re changing!”

“I am.”

“You’re could warn a person.”

“I told you I was going to clean my leathers.”

“I suppose you did,” Kahlan muttered, twisting the cloth in her hands. Its not like she’d never seen Cara naked before. But those were fleeting glimpses while changing, or bathing in lakes and streams on the road. Not so… _stretched out_ and in her face. 

“I am hardly concerned for my modesty Confessor. You know I would happily sleep naked if you didn’t insist on this.” Cara tugged at her, barely covering mid-thigh, shift.”

“I know.” Again Kahlan felt the heat creeping across her face.

Despite the embarrassment, the next half a mark turned into a comfortable silence. Kahlan scrubbed herself clean to the sounds of Cara brushing over her leathers, then stole a few more moments of relaxation before deciding she better get out before she actually did fall asleep. 

Checking to confirm Cara’s attention was on her task, Kahlan donned her towel and stepped out of the tub. “That was amazing. The water is still warm if you’d like, but I must admit, its probably not the cleanest. I think I left half the desert in there.”

Cara eyed the water and grunted her agreement. “I cleaned up a little in a stream yesterday. I’m sure the innkeeper will be happy to draw me another in the morning.” She rose and neatly folded her leathers on the chair, “I’m fine to wash off in the basin.”

“Sorry.”

The Mord-Sith smirked, “I am just glad not to be sharing a bed with someone who stinks of Shadrin hide.”

“Hey! I wasn’t that bad.” Holding her towel in place, Kahlan pulled out her pack to find her sleep clothes.

“I beg to differ Confessor,” she flicked the water with her fingers, “you forget I spent an entire afternoon keeping you and your lovely odour from falling off a horse. A horse, which thankfully helped to mask the smell.”

Kahlan gave her a wry look before sweetly replying, “And I will forever be grateful for your gentle care.” That earned her a scowl. The Confessor grinned cheekily, then twirled her finger, indicating Cara turn around, so she could change into her shift.

Cara rolled her eyes but complied. Walking over to a small wash bin sitting on a table by the window, she began to clean her face and neck. “Not that I don’t appreciate a night away from the wizard’s snoring, but why _are_ we sharing a bed?”

Kahlan’s stomach tightened. Pulling on her shift she tried to deflect, “we always share a room when we stay at an inn Cara.”

“Yes, but that was before.” Kahlan couldn’t help but think the Mord-Sith sounded a little bitter.

“Before what?”

Cara shot a look over her shoulder, telling her they both knew exactly what. 

Kahlan sighed and pulled back the bed sheets. “It would not be appropriate for the Mother Confessor to spend the night with a man who was not her official mate.”

The Mord-Sith finished drying off and moved to the other side of the bed, levelling her steady gaze at the brunette. “Right,” she mumbled noncommittally, “and the rest of it?”

“What rest of it?” Kahlan focused on adjusting the pillows and sounding confused.

“Kahlan.”

Kahan met her expectant gaze, and again she tried to deflect, “is the fearsome Cara Mason, once right hand of D’hara, actually wanting to discuss feelings.” 

“Is the Mother Confessor, and weeper of swords, expecting me to believe she doesn’t need to?” 

Kahlan actually managed a laugh at that. She crawled under the quilt and looked up at the Mord-Sith, appreciative in what she was trying to do. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m feeling Cara. So much has happened so fast, and Richard… I just, I’m so tired, and… I just don’t know.”

Cara considered her a long moment, then gave a nod. “Well I am sure you’re incessant nattering will cause me more pain than an Agiel when you figure it out.” She blew out the lamp, then crawled in beside the Confessor, leaving only the glow of the dying fire to light the room.

Kahlan couldn’t help but grin at the Mord-Sith’s round about way of saying she was there to listen when Kahlan was ready. She reached out and gently squeezed her arm, “I promise it will.”

Cara grunted and turned away on her side. It was only moments before Kahlan’s breathing evened out and sleep took her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the Kahlan innuendo joke was a little out of character. I took it in and out like 8 times, then toned it down and left it because i couldn't help myself... Please forgive me. It wont happen again. :-P


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have taken the time to leave Kudos. And to the 11 of you that have either subscribed or bookmarked this, you have no idea what a cool feeling it is to have written something people want to make an effort to follow, so thank you very much! 
> 
> I hope this continues to meet expectations!

The first 24 marks in Portree, hands down, had been the longest 24 marks of Cara’s life. Sure it was nice to be bathed, and fed, and free from the eternal dampness that came from sleeping on the ground, but a full day of idleness left the Mord-Sith hoping for a Gar attack. Kahlan took in reports from the village council, before writing letters to various officials in Aydindril and to her sister, then took a nap. Most of the afternoon was spent strolling the village, talking with _the people,_ followed by a tedious dinner with said council, where each member tried to out do the others’ tales of menial accomplishment in an annoying attempt to impress the Mother Confessor.

And Cara had stood by, vigilantly, despite the most threatening thing in Portree being the endless chatter about the weather. Despite the restlessness of overlooking a sleepy town of mundane people, doing even more mundane tasks, without so much as a proper guard to possibly spar with. Mord-Sith did not do dormant. Stasis was, in Cara’s mind, the worst form of torture. But beyond the horizon loomed bigger threats, and when Kahlan woke the next morning looking like the life had returned to her, Cara thought perhaps this temporary stay was worth it.

Portree was barely a village. It comprised of the inn, which had only the two rooms crammed above the small tavern, a few shops scattered around the town square, surrounded by a ring of quaint homes that quickly thinned out into the countryside. Most of the men went south for seasonal work on the fishing boats in the spring and fall, returning to help the women tend small orchards of fruit trees in the summer. This early in the summer meant most men had just returned from the sea. The village was a bustle with activity, a lot of which seemed to require passing by the town square, where the Mother Confessor had set up this morning to hear petitions. 

The Council had requested that, if they were going to be staying around a few days, that perhaps the Mother Confessor would be willing to over see some of the village disputes. They had no real big criminal issues to deal with, but having the Mother Confessor arbitrate would lend a credibility and respect to the outcome and would allow the villagers to accept the decisions, quelling any long term animosity. 

And of course the Mother Confessor agreed.

Cara hadn’t been happy that the Confessor was going to put herself out in the open like that, but Kahlan had insisted if she couldn’t go after Rahl, she could at least be doing her other duty. Seeing to the needs of the people. Cara could not begrudge her, her duty. And besides, she thought, Kahlan was probably just as antsy about sitting around as she, and probably needed the distraction. 

Two more days, then they would be on the road. Cara listened to the blacksmith prattle on about being shorted a barrel of haddock in a trade for fixing the axles on a fisherman’s wagon, and gripped her Agiel. Two more _long_ days. 

She focused on Kahlan as she listened to the fisherman counter-argue shoddy work, then dispensed her judgement that the blacksmith sees to the squeaking wheel, then be given his fish. Cara furrowed her brow. Just a couple days ago this woman had saved life itself from the grip of the Keeper, and now she was listening to people squabble over a few coins worth of salted fish. Kahlan shot her an amused tight-lipped smile, as if she knew all the thoughts passing through Cara’s mind. Cara’s frown deepened. Confessors can’t read Mord-Sith. 

Two mark’s later, and a rousing tale of the dressmaker’s cousin’s wife’s brother failing to sheer the herder’s flock before he took off for the boats, and Cara was ready to eat her Agiels. She decided it was time for a perimeter check. She made brief eye contact with the Confessor before departing for her circle of the square. Then she made sure to make steady eye contact with each and every person waiting in line for their audience with the Mother Confessor. Each of the town folk in turn, took a step back as she passed. There would be no funny business here. 

As the Mord-Sith made her way past the row of shops, people going about their business quickly made way. Nobody ran in terror, they knew she was accompanying the Mother Confessor, but a few tales of the Mord-Sith travelling with the Seeker were not enough to overcome a lifetime of entrenched fear. Without the Confessor at her side she was given a wide berth. Cara didn’t mind. It meant she didn’t have to speak with anyone. 

She slowed in front of a vendor selling fruits and vegetables from a rickety looking stand and inspected containers of small blue berries displayed near the front. Berries were a rarity in D’Hara. Too delicate to make it across the heat of the Azrith Plains, the were considered a luxury for the Lord Rahl and those of high rank. Funny wandering around the Midlands saving kittens with the Seeker, how many of these luxury items were found growing on the side of the road. But she had not yet seen these blue ones.

“M… ma’am, can I help you?”

Cara looked up to find a short, middle-aged man, receding hair line and pale as a ghost, stuttering from behind the display. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes,” she waved her hand at the fruit, speaking briskly, “these blue berries, what are they?”

His eyes darted several times between the berries and the Mord-Sith, “they… Blueberries, ma’am.”

Uncertain if she was being mocked, or dealing with an invalid, Cara’s eyes darkened. The man promptly stepped back knocking a bucket of apples over. Neither looked as apples poured over the display and onto the ground. “I am not a _ma’am_ ,” she said warning creeping into her tone, “and I asked what the blue berries were called, not confirmation that I am not colour blind.”

Sweat was starting to trickle from the greying brown hair in front of his ears. “I’m, I’m sorry, ma’a… That… that is what they are called Mis… Mistress. Blueberries.”

“Oh.” All the menace gone from her demeanour, Cara picked one up and inspected it, “that is a very efficient name.”

“Yes, yes it is,” the vendor nodded his ferocious agreement and then somehow found the courage to step forward. “And they are very tasty. Here, please.” He picked up a container of the berries and held it, all be it shakily, out for the Mord-Sith. “My gift to you. For helping the Seeker and Mother Confessor close the rift.”

Cara considered the vendor, then promptly heard Richard’s voice insisting they didn’t take advantage of the generosity of those less fortunate. “I can pay. How much?”

The vendor shook his head so hard, Cara thought it might detach, “No, I insist. Its an honour to offer my thanks to those who fought to save us from the Keeper.”

Cara took in the man a moment longer before nodding her thanks and taking the berries. Maybe this town wasn’t the worst place in the Midlands after all.

She continued to wander the square a while longer, frequently gazing to the Confessor and the finally dwindling line, while munching on her berries. They were quite good. She decided it was about time to make her way back to the Confessor, but her attention was instead drawn by a small whimpering cry coming from beside the dress shop.

A quick glance around the building revealed three young girls. Two were maybe about eleven or twelve summers. The taller girl dressed in a pail blue dress. Her hair tied back with a matching ribbon. The shorter girl’s brunette hair flowed loosely down the back of her long pink dress. The both had book bags, and the taller one held up a raggedly looking doll between her fingers. The third child was only about 5. She wore a wrinkly flower-patterned dress, and her light brown hair was unbrushed. Cara didn’t have to be the Seeker of Truth to know the smaller child was being teased. 

“Molly!” Little arms reached up in desperation for the doll being held out of reach. 

“I’m sorry Emily,” the taller girl tossed the doll to her friend with a laugh, “Molly is very sick. We are going to have to take her away.”

“Yes,” confirmed the other girl, “so you don’t get infected.”

“No!!” The little one’s wail pierced Cara’s ears. Purely for her own sanity, she would have to put a stop to this.

Blueberries still in one hand, she drew an Agiel with the other and casually sauntered forward from where she had stood unseen. 

The slow crunch of the gravel underfoot alerted the children to her presence. Cara simply canted her hip and twirled her Agiel, “is there a problem here?”

Two sets of small eyes blew out of their sockets. Cara waited expectantly. “Well?”

The shorter one finally made words, “nnn.. no.”

“Are you sure?” Care took another step forward, brandishing her Agiel nonchalantly towards the older girls, “Because the small one seems upset. Do you” she pointed the singing rod directly at the taller girl, “know why?”

The taller girl finally unfroze, stumbling back, and dropping her book bag. “We, she… Emily just dropped her doll, and we,” she quickly snatched the doll back from her friend and shoved it into the arms of the youngest girl, “we were just returning it, weren’t we Chloe?”

The one deemed Chloe nodded dumbly. “How kind of you,” Cara said in an anything but kind tone. “Now go.” 

The girls didn’t need to be told twice. The taller one tripped over herself as she frantically retrieved her fallen books, and they were gone in a blink. Cara holstered her Agiel and turned to the smaller girl hugging her doll to her tear streaked face. “Okay,” the Mord-Sith waved her hands towards the houses, “you’re dismissed.”

Big blue eyes twitched then filled with fresh tears. Cara sighed and rolled her eyes. What did she get herself in to? She was not trained for this. “What?” She reached down and petted the doll on the head, “The toy is returned. Go on now.” She waved again towards the houses.

The girl held the doll up with two hands, “Molly sick.”

“That is absurd. Dolls cannot get sick.”

More tears rolled down Emily’s face, “will she die?”

“She is made of cloth and wool,” Cara explained slowly. Seriously this child refused to see reason. Emily clutched the doll back to her chest, and the tears continued.

Cara took a deep breath and prayed to the Creator for a way out of this. Her eyes darting everywhere for an escape, for the child’s keeper to appear, for a dragon, anything. Her eyes only found blueberries. She ran a hand over her face and knelt in front of the child.

“Small child, look at me.” The girl’s eyes raised up; Cara motioned at the doll. “Yes, the doll. _Molly"_ she forced out the name, “is quite ill.” Emily’s eyes widened and she clutched the doll tighter. “But do not fret. Because I have the cure.”

The girl’s eyes lit up expectantly. “You see these berries?” The child nodded. “They were spelled by powerful magic,” she rolled her eyes reflexively, “they will heal the doll.” She gestured at the doll again. “Molly.”

“ _Really_ , magic?”

“Yes, but we must do it quickly.” Cara held up a berry and waited for the child to hold out her doll. She then slowly pressed the berry to the tattered threads that passed as its mouth, before hiding it between her fingers and tossing it away. “There. Good as new.”

The child’s face lit up like the glow of a hundred night wisps. She clutched her doll tightly, and then before Cara could react, lunged herself at the Mord-Sith and hugged her just as hard. Cara knelt stiffly for a moment, before extricating herself from the child’s arms.

“Okay now,” this time she petted the child on the head, “run along.” The child stared at her, then stared at the berries. She suddenly grabbed a handful then tore off back through the town and into a nearby house. Cara shook her head and rubbed her face one more time. When she rose to return to the square she was once again met by big blue eyes.

“How long have you been standing there?” She was never going to live this down. She brushed off her knees, and walked past the grinning Confessor, who immediately fell in step beside her. 

“Not long.” Kahlan reached over and stole a berry, earning a scowl, “do you think these will heal my fatigue?”

“I will Agiel you Confessor.”

Kahlan laughed, “that was very sweet of you.”

“ _Did you not just hear what I said_?” 

Kahlan replied by stealing some more berries and popping them in her mouth.

“I was merely trying to quiet the child. The crying was giving me a headache.”

“Of course,” the Confessor gave her a solemn nod.

“Shouldn’t you be busy solving the most pressing issues of the Midlands?” she gestured at the now empty table across the square. “I think the butcher has been putting his thumb on the scale.”

Kahlan laughed again, and Cara decided the sound was much preferable to that of the crying child. “I know the problems seem inconsequential when we are fighting things like Rahl or the Keeper, but its not really the problem that is important here,” the Confessor explained as she gently pulled the Mord-Sith’s arm, guiding her to a small path leading from town and into the Orchards. “What is important is making them feel seen. Building trust, so when we pass judgement on larger issues, they have faith in our decisions. So they have confidence in the Confessors to guide the Midlands. There are not many opportunities to do so these days, so, as mundane as the problems of a small village may seem, I was happy to provide the service.”

Cara slowed to a stop as they reached the trees. She knew all too well why such opportunities were now rare, as well as her not so small part in it. Kahlan reached out and tugged her arm again to get her moving.

“Cara. I didn’t mean anything by that.”

The blonde grunted her assent as they fell back in step with each other.

“Valeria would have happened whether you were there or not.”

True, but far less successfully, Cara thought. She settled on grunting again. 

The Confessor leaned against her affectionately as they walked, “You must forgive yourself Cara. You have acted only bravely and with honour since we’ve met, and word is,” she squeezed the Mord-Sith’s bicep, “you cannot even kill a Confessor to save the world now.”

Cara glowered, “The wizard’s mouth is too big for his own good. Remind me to stuff a sock in it when we meet up in Galloway.”

“You know you probably saved the world by not loosing your arrow Cara,” Kahlan pressed as they passed under the leafy branches of a grove of peach trees. “If you had killed me, I would not have killed Richard in the Con Dar, and we would not have gotten another Stone of Tears.”

“As long as the Mother Confessor’s pure heart beats,” Cara murmured.

“Prophecy often reveals itself in unexpected ways.” 

Cara nodded, then noticed Kahlan was still holding her arm as they walked. She shook it off with a scowl. Which, of course, Kahlan just smiled at. Cara rolled her eyes. “I don’t know Confessor, Richard had just handed over the Stone to the Keeper, you may have been angry enough to kill him still.” 

Kahlan huffed, “I try not to think about that.” She reached up and flicked a low hanging branch, “I mean I know the Keeper was disguised as a child, but with the warning of the prophecy, I don’t know how he could have let the Stone out of his possession.”

“Hmm,” Cara agreed, “Richard has always been too easy to trust. And you know he does not put faith in prophecy. He would never let mystical words govern his instincts.” 

“Indeed,” the Confessor replied tersely.

The Mord-Sith looked over at her expectantly. Kahlan let out an audible sigh and threw her back against a nearby tree. Cara stopped and stood with her hands behind her back and waited for the Confessor to organize her thoughts.

“As you know, Shota has interfered with our journeys many times in the name of her visions.”

“She’s a troublesome witch. Would you like me to take care of her?” 

“No,” Kahlan smiled briefly, but it faded immediately. “Although guided by her own interests, her words have always proven true.” Cara nodded reluctantly. “She has warned of another vision.” The Mord-Sith cocked an eyebrow. “It’s about Richard and I, and…” the Confessor flushed, and when she spoke again was much quieter “and if we were to bare a child, that it would be a boy.” Kahlan looked off into the distance, “A male Confessor.”

“Oh.” Cara stared at her berries as if they could help, then back at the Confessor. No wonder Kahlan had been so off since the Pillars. Not being able to confess Richard, meant being able to bear children with him. Meant this vision could come to pass.

The Confessors eyes returned to her sadly. “If we had a boy, I know Richard would not allow the ritual of water.”

Cara’s temper flared and she had to tamp it down, however her voice still bared intensity when she spoke. “Richard and I have been to that future Kahlan. The future of a world decimated by a male Confessor. Surely he would not risk bringing that to pass.”

“You know Richard and his boundless optimism. He would insist he could find a way. That we would raise him, and it would be different.” Kahlan shook her head, “it is my duty to continue the line of Confessors. But I cannot risk doing that with Richard.” 

A wave of guilt passed over the Mord-Sith knowing exactly why so much weight was put on Kahlan in this matter, she again pushed down her feelings. This wasn’t about her. And she didn’t _have_ feelings, she chided herself. “At the risk of being,” Cara grimaced, “crude. There are ways to prevent pregnancy. You could be with Richard but bear the children of another.”

Normally the flame of embarrassment that blew across the Confessor’s cheeks would feel like a victory, but right now Cara only felt a sick pang in her gut at the pain on Kahlan’s face.

“I have… thought of that,” Kahlan forced out, “even if I could do that, I am not sure Richard could…”

“It is your duty, he would understand,” she interrupted.

“That’s the thing Cara,” the Confessor shook her head, fingers picking at the bark behind her, “I don’t think he would.” She rubbed her eyes with her fingers, “all he ever talks about is settling down in the Westland. Raising a family.” Cara knew that all too well but was surprised to hear the seemingly lovesick Confessor speak of the same doubts. “He has done his duty as the Seeker,” Kahlan continued, “but in his mind its always been a temporary position. Seal the veil, bask in the win, go home. You saw how he reacted when we discovered Rahl had Nicci. And when we find and stop him, he will want to go back to Hartland, but there will always be something else. For me. I have the Midlands. I have a responsibility I cannot turn my back on.”

Cara felt a swell of pride at the woman before her. No wonder they had become such good… not enemies. She rolled her eyes inwardly at herself. _Friends_. She could say it. To herself. “The Midlands are lucky to have you as their leader Kahlan.” The Confessor responded with a sincere smile. “Richard loves you. And you love him.” Cara ignored the renewed tightness pulling in her chest, “you will find a way to make it work. If it comes down to you… he will come around.”

Kahlan’s smile faded away. “Maybe,” she said noncommittally, maintaining eye contact with the Mord-Sith, “When we were in the Valley of Creation, the Eternals, they… they wanted us to stay. To let the Keeper destroy the world of life,” she flushed again, “and repopulate it with our children.” Cara scoffed at the melodrama of it all. “They tried to trap us there, and though Richard didn’t stop trying to get out, he also made it rather clear he wouldn’t be broken up over it if we had been forced to stay and do just that.”

That was news to Cara. She was sure her displeasure was evident on her face.

“He was thinking with his heart, not his head,” Kahlan continued slowly, looking for the right words, her eyes full of sadness. “He is a good man. I… I love him. But, he, I. I’m just not sure anymore if he…”

“If he is the right fit.” Cara finished for her.

Kahlan nodded and frowned at the understanding.

Cara reached up and pulled a ripening peach from the tree above her, holding Kahlan with a long steady gaze. “I’ve asked Zedd to help me break the bond.” Then she tossed the peach at the Confessor and strode off down the path.

“What!”

The Mord-Sith only made it a few paces before she was retched around by the shoulder. Kahlan’s eyes were blown wide with shock and confusion. Cara stretched her neck to one side and then the other, she supposed this was her fault for bringing it up, there was no going back now. “I have inquired to the wizard if it is possible to break the bond to the Rahl bloodline.”

Kahlan’s eyes darted around her face like she didn’t know what question to ask first. Cara waited quietly until she settled on one. “Is that possible?”

“He thinks it is,” she looked down at the Confessors hand still grabbing her leathers and brushed it off, “he said he looked into it during the great war before the Boundary went up. He thought if he could free D’hara from the bond, that the house of Rahl would fall to revolution.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t succeed.”

“No. But he thinks he may have the way to do it on a smaller scale.” Cara waved at herself. “For an individual. He wouldn’t say much until he was sure he could do it, other than it would be dangerous, and would take “ _Powerful Magic_ ,”” she waved her fingers in the air.

Kahlan’s brow furrowed, “dangerous? You could be hurt?”

“I’m not afraid of a little danger Confessor,” Cara dismissed.

“Yes, but…” Kahlan suddenly changed direction, “so you don’t wish to be bonded to Richard anymore?”

Cara let out a long exhale. She had spent way too much time speaking of feelings today. _And_ it was her own fault. She definitely needed somebody to punch. “Richard is a good man,” Cara purposely echoed the Confessor’s words, “but he refuses to accept his duty. My feelings on that aside, if he does not accept the bond, if he does not strengthen the bond, it leaves it open for another to claim.”

“Like Rahl when he acquires Nicci’s powers,” Kahlan concluded.

“Yes, or who knows else. Rahl’s aren’t exactly known for their monogamy. There are probably dozens of half blood Rahls running around with traces of the gift, and Creator knows what kind of motivations.”

“You are strong Cara, just because someone else has the bond doesn’t mean…”

“Yes Kahlan,” Cara swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat. “That is exactly what it means. The bond…” she took another deep breath and searched for a way to explain. “When you confess somebody you destroy their will. And I know you carry the weight of that Kahlan but know what your magic does is a gift compared to the bond. It’s a gift because the confessed does not know that it is not his will. Your will _is_ his will, so he is blissfully ignorant. But with the bond…” She felt the rare sting of tears forming in her eyes and looked up at the leaves to force them back, clasping her Agiel to calm herself, “When you are controlled with the bond you do not know it at first, but then you do. You feel it grow inside you until you realize your will is not your own. That what you are doing is not by your own design. It’s like insidious dark oil rolling in your blood. Moving you. Owning you.” She shook her head, her voice growing quiet, “there is no torture worse than knowing your will is not your own. I will not live that way again.”

Cara may have successfully held back her tears, but Kahlan had not. When her eyes returned to the bright blues of the Confessor, two wet trails were descending down her cheeks, her eyes sad but shining from the wetness gathered in them. Then for the second time in a mark, the Mord-Sith found herself sneak attacked by physical contact as Kahlan lunged at her. Cara sighed, but after a moment returned it awkwardly. The Confessor, after all, was in obvious need of comfort.


	4. Chapter 4

Kahlan stretched in an attempt to find a more comfortable position on the ornate wooden chair that the council had provided for her. The parties from the last judgement gathered aside with a councilman to agree on a schedule to work off the debt in the orchards. Two days of hearing petitions and the biggest issues were people feeling shortchanged in a trade, and that one guy whose new hat turned his head blue. It definitely was a sleepy little village. 

Settling problems that rational human beings should be able to settle on their own wasn’t necessarily Kahlan’s favourite part of the job, but it beat the often graphic and violent trials Confessors had to preside over. She bit her lip and frowned. Come to think of it, there really wasn’t a favourite part of the job. But it _was_ important to take any chance she could to build the line of trust with the people. One day, when she finally makes it back to Aydindril, larger matters of state will take precedent. With only two Confessors left, days like this will become a rarity, and will continue to be so for generations to come. So if she has time to sit and listen to Al the netmaker complain his neighbour cursed his chickens, it was her duty to sit and listen.

Speaking of duty. She glanced over at Cara. The Mord-Sith stood placidly a few feet away, body still, but eyes constantly surveying for threat, as vigilant as if walking the roads of D’hara. Arms behind her back, relaxed, yet ever ready to unleash, uncoil like a snake and strike. Even in the quietest village in the Midlands, she too did not relax from duty. 

Kahlan thought back to the previous afternoon. She knew despite all her grumblings about feelings, Cara would always listen to her when she needed to talk. Recently even taking that bizarre turn into Cara _encouraging_ her to talk. But she still expected scoffing or deflecting when Kahlan got too soft or sensitive. She did _not_ expect a reciprocal sharing of feelings. She had been completely caught off guard by the empathy and understanding regarding Richard. As for the raw pain displayed on the Mord-Sith’s face when she described being controlled with the bond… Kahlan’s heart clenched at the memory. 

Cara was constantly surprising her. 

The clenching turned to twisting when she thought back to how she treated Cara in the beginning. How she _thought_ about Cara in the beginning. As a heartless, thoughtless monster. But every day since Stowecroft, when Kahlan had caught a glimpse of what lay under the blood red leather, that day when Kahlan had finally opened herself to the possibilities that were Cara, she had slowly discovered that Cara was in fact, all heart, all thought, and so much more than anyone in her harrowing life had given her credit for. 

She wondered how much more there was to discover.

She knew a soft smile had fallen across her lips when Cara met her eyes and scowled. Which of course only caused Kahlan’s smile to blossom into a wide grin, which led to the Mord-Sith shaking her head in disgust and turning away. 

The Confessor forced her mind back to the forefront, Confessor face settling over her features as the young councilman, Aaron, who had been assigned to help with the petitions, waved forward two young women and announced them. They approached and knelt before her. 

“Rise and present your petition.” 

The first woman was upset because she had sewn drapes and bed linen for the second woman, but upon completion the second woman had refused the items and to pay. The second woman was refusing, evidently, because the first woman slept with her husband. 

Kahlan could see Cara smirking out of the corner of her eye. At least somebody was having a good time.

She turned to the first woman; the truth of the affair plainly evident on her face, and resisted rubbing her hand over her eyes in disbelief. Why would she even bring this to a Confessor. “I am sorry, but I cannot ask a woman to buy bed linens from a woman who… bedded her husband.” Kahlan said, now fighting back both exasperation and embarrassment. But Kahlan was well trained. Nothing inside would show on her face.

The first woman took a step closer, anger flashing on her face, “but Mother Confessor, I am out…”

“I have made my judgement,” she said icily, halting the woman’s protest, “I suggest you accept it, and be thankful I do not impart damages for your indiscretion.” The woman stared a moment, open mouthed, eventually bowed her head and stalked away. The Confessor turned her attention to the second woman, “and I suggest _you_ contemplate the benefits of single life.” The woman nodded, gave her thanks and departed as well. The amusement was open on Cara’s face as she watched the two women walking across the square shooting dark looks at each other. “Entertained, are we?”

Cara’s eyes met hers, full of mirth, “you should have asked details, maybe we would have gotten to see some poorly thrown punches.”

“Cara. I’m here to deescalate things, not make them worse.”

Cara rolled her eyes, Kahlan readied for the last judgement.

“Oomph!” 

Kahlan followed the strangled sound back to where Cara was standing a few paces to her right. And oh how she wished she had a painter on hand to capture the sight that met her. The Mord-Sith was staring straight down with a mixture of confusion, anger and disbelief at a young girl clinging tightly to her legs.

The child looked up at the Mord-Sith. “Hi.”

Light brown untamed hair and the same wrinkled flower print dress, it only took a moment to recognize her as the same child Cara had helped the day before. Cara gave the girl her best scowl. A look Kahlan had seen pale even the strongest of men. “Small child what are you doing?”

The girl only responded with a bright smile. Kahlan couldn’t help herself. She laughed out loud at the look of complete befuddlement strewn across Cara’s face. Of course, that just redirected the death scowl at her. 

Undeterred, the Confessor rose from her chair and walked the few steps to stand at Cara’s side, “I see you’ve made a friend.”

“I swear to the Creator Confessor…”

“What’s your name?” Kahlan ignored the fearsome Mord-Sith, smiled and asked the girl. The girl only stared up at her shyly and squeezed red leather more tightly.

“Emily,” Cara muttered. That garnered bright grins from both brunettes. The blonde rolled her eyes and began prying small arms off her legs, “shouldn’t you be off playing or something?”

Arms freed from legs were now available to grab the Mord-Sith’s hand and enthusiastically tug at her arm. Cara sighed dramatically then lowered herself to one knee. Kahlan thought her grin might break her face. “What?” the Mord-Sith asked shortly.

Emily smiled again, her voice barely a whisper. “I need more berries, please.”

Cara’s brow furrowed slightly, “I am sorry girl, they are gone.”

Out of nowhere look of pure panic overtook the child’s face. “But they didn’t work!” Her eyes now wet with the beginnings of tears. 

The always stoic Mord-Sith was suddenly also looking panicked, eyes wide at the looming threat. “Your doll will be fine child.” Tears began to fall. “Maybe we can get more from the skittish balding man.” But Emily was lost in her sobs. Cara looked up at Kahlan helplessly. “Aren’t humans this small supposed to be kept with a parent or a handler or something?”

“Nanny, Cara.”

“Whatever,” she muttered and rose. When the child once again pressed into Cara’s legs and the Mord-Sith mindlessly put a comforting hand on her back, Kahlan thought her heart might explode. “Hey you!” Cara glowered past Kahlan to the councilman, “why is this child running around alone and crying all the time?”

Aaron, who had been standing by the table, watching and waiting for the Confessor to take the last petition, blanched at being called out by the Mord-Sith, “that’s um, Emily, Mistress Cara.”

“ _I know her name_ ,” she growled then looked at the Confessor, “why do people always tell me what I already know?”

“Cara,” The Confessor smiled patiently and gave the Mord-Sith’s arm a squeeze before turning to the councilman. “Where are Emily’s parents, Aaron?”

“Her father was killed in the war with the D’harans, Mother Confessor.” He cleared his throat, and continued more quietly, “her mother is, she is quite ill. She will not… she has been bed ridden for several moons now.”

Cara looked a little pale as she locked eyes with the Confessor, “She thought her doll was sick. I told her the berries were magic.” Kahlan could feel her heart tear at the realization that the girl thought the berries could heal her mother. Cara of course, defaulted into anger, and directed it right at the poor councilman, “So you just let her roam free, until what? She wanders away and is no longer a problem?”

“No!” Arron was visibly shaking under the Mord-Sith’s glare, “We, the village I mean, try to watch her best we can. Make sure she gets fed, put to bed at night.”

Kahlan took in Emily quietly crying against Cara’s leg, heart stinging in empathy against the memories of losing her own mother. She schooled her features and returned her attentions to the councilman, “Doesn’t she have Aunts or Uncles, or a Grandparent she could stay with? It can’t be healthy for her to watch her mother suffer like that?”

Arron shook his head, “No Mother Confessor, she has no other family. When… when her mother passes, she will be sent to stay with the Sisters of the Light, but for now… we do the best we can.”

Kahlan sighed. It was really a no-win situation, “Is there truly no hope for the mother? Maybe it would be better for the child if…” her words evaporated as she turned around to find Emily and her tear stained cheeks alone and staring off across the village. “ _Cara_?” The Confessor’s eyes darted around the square, frowning in confusion as they sought out red leather. She looked at Emily. Looked at Arron. Then her eyes blew from their sockets. “Aaron, where does Emily live,” she asked urgently.

He pointed in the same direction Emily stared. Kahlan swallowed hard. Cara was going to do the only merciful thing she knew how. “Take me. Now.” She quickly scooped up Emily, then started off across the square.

Aaron led her to a small home, the hedges and grass overgrown, but otherwise looked like it had been well cared for in the past. Large flat stones led the way to the slightly ajar entrance.

Kahlan, Emily still clutched in her arms, only made it part way up the path before red leather burst out the front door. Looking grim and determined, Cara refused to catch her eye as she stalked past and disappeared between some buildings. While she was distracted by the Mord-Sith, Emily tore herself out of Kahlan’s grasp with a squeal and ran up the path before she could catch her arm. 

“Mama!” 

Kahlan watched as the girl threw herself into the arms of a short, thin woman in a yellowing shift. 

“Oh baby, I’m here. I love you so much,” the woman mumbled, crying into Emily’s hair as she clung to her.

Kahlan looked from the woman to the councilman, who stared on wide-eyed, as if seeing the walking dead. A soft smile tugged at the Confessor’s lips as her view drifted back to the buildings where Cara had disappeared. “So much more,” she breathed.

\---------

She found Cara in the tavern, sitting at a benched table in the corner, drinking a pint of ale. She slid in quietly beside her and sat in silence for a long time. Eventually she was overwhelmed by the urge to speak. “You healed her with the breath of life.”

Cara took a long drink. Kahlan didn’t think she was going to answer, then she did. “A girl needs her mother,” was all she said before picking at a knot in the tabletop.

“I thought..” Kahlan trailed off. More silence.

Cara finally spoke again, still picking at the knot. “I was unsure it would work. The Breath of Life is not always able to heal disease, but I thought…” now it was the Mord-Sith’s turn to lose her words. But Kahlan knew. Thought it was worth the risk. Worth the risk to give a girl back her mother. Thought that even if she failed, ending the suffering was better.

Kahlan decided it was time to distract the Mord-Sith from those thoughts. Cara had just performed an extremely compassionate act; she didn’t deserve to suffer in the memories left in its wake. She reached over and grabbed Cara’s ale. Cara frowned at her as she pulled it over and took a sip. Immediately her face split into a bitter grimace, but it did what was intended and pulled a smirk onto the Mord-Sith’s face. She pushed the ale back to Cara. “If the drink has not dulled your senses, I was thinking we should spar.” 

Cara’s smirk twitched into an insulted flat line, “its a pint Confessor. And aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

“I feel good. And we head out tomorrow. I’d prefer to know where I stand before we run into trouble.”

Cara grunted as if to say that made sense.

Kahlan continued matter-of-factly, “and if I beat you easily, I know I am recovered. If it’s a challenge, I obviously have a way to go.”

That had the desired effect. Blond head slowly tilting sideways in disbelief. 

“So, if the drink hasn’t dulled your senses,” she said again, “I will go hear the last petition then we can find some space.”

“You better hope my senses are dulled, Confessor, because I am not going to go easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Kahlan rose, “and it will be good for you to burn off some excess energy before the party tonight.”

“Wait, what!” Cara cried after her retreating form.

\--------------------

Kahlan rolled her neck and shoulders as a porter took away her salad plate and replenished the ale of the Mord-Sith beside her.

“A little stiff Mother Confessor? Perhaps another bath would help.”

Kahlan’s eyes narrowed at the Mord-Sith, “how’s your ribs?” she asked flatly.

Cara pointed at her sharply “that was a lucky shot.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep tonight, Cara.”

“ _There was a deer_ ,” she enunciated slowly.

“Mmm, yes. Remind me next time we’re attacked that if there are any fluffy woodland creatures about, I’ll need to watch your back extra close.”

Green eyes flashed indignantly, “It almost ran into me.”

“I’m sorry.” She grinned smugly, “I was unaware Mord-Sith could only handle one adversary at a time.”

Cara narrowed her eyes, reached forward with one finger and slowly pressed it into the side of the Confessor’s shoulder. 

“Ow!” 

The Mord-Sith sat back and took a satisfied drink of her ale. Cara had gotten her there a couple of times, and it was turning into a wicked looking bruise. “did you really have to pick on the same spot,” she muttered.

“I was simply helping you learn to protect your weak spot Confessor. It could save your life someday.”

Kahlan leaned forward into her hand, “how kind of you.” Cara answered with a wicked grin.

In the few hours that they had sparred and bathed, the village managed to turn the modest dirt square positively festive. Tables covered in streamers and torches lined the opening in a ring. A small band of fiddlers were staged off to the side of the main table where the Confessor and the Council were set up. People were mingling, and dancing in the square. 

Kahlan estimated about eighty people showed up for the feast, which must have been all of the town, and much of the surrounding countryside. It was easy to fret and worry about Rahl and Nicci, but seeing the smiling faces mingling amongst the tables, it was nice to take a moment to celebrate what they had accomplished. None of this would be happening now if they had failed to close the rift. 

Her eyes settle on a table a few to the right, where Andrea, Emily’s mother was sitting, a steady stream of citizens stopping to pay their respects and to hear firsthand the story of her miraculous recovery. Ever so often her smiling eyes would flitter to the head table. To the Mord-Sith. Cara, for her part, was not noticing as hard as she possibly could. Just as she was not noticing the overly friendly greetings of the villagers, who were taking turns approaching their table to offer words of thanks to the Confessor and her surly companion. 

Kahlan’s gaze fell from mother to daughter. Emily was shuffling around in front of the table, waving her arm frantically at passers-by, with a small scowl creasing her brow. Laughter burst from the Confessor’s throat.

“What?” Cara asked curiously, trying to follow Kahlan’s gaze.

“Look at Emily.”

The Mord-Sith frowned and shook her head, “she is playing wizard, so what?”

Kahlan nodded towards the girl with her head. “Look again Cara.”

Cara’s eyes slowly tracked back to the child and watched first in curiosity, then in consternation. “She’s…”

“Playing Mord-Sith,” Kahlan finished bemused.

Cara looked anything but amused. She looked distressed. She shook her head frantically, then was gone. Seconds later she appeared glowering in front of Emily. Emily took notice and immediately latched onto the Mord-Sith’s legs, looking up with a beaming smile. Cara’s entire body seemed to heave in resignation, then pried off little arms and knelt before the child. 

Kahlan watched, enraptured by the scene as Cara, stern faced, spoke to the girl, from time to time pointing her finger in emphases, first at herself, then Emily. Kahlan stifled a laugh when the girl again mirror Cara’s scowl and began waving her arm. The Mord-Sith rolled her eyes, pushed her arm down and continued her lecture. Eventually Emily started nodding along to Cara’s words. Cara finally gave a curt nod and stood up only to be met with the beaming face of Emily’s mother. 

Kahlan had seen Cara take on dozens of armed men at a time. Seen her face down all manner of beasts and magic, Sisters of the Dark… she even took the Keeper’s deal to become a Baneling, for crying out loud, consequences be dammed. The Mord-Sith could probably face all those threats combined and not show a fraction of the fear now creeping onto her features in the face of this woman giving her heartfelt thanks. 

Andrea clasped Cara’s hands. Cara quickly pulled them free. Undeterred the woman smiled brightly as she spoke. Kahlan could not make out any of the conversation over the noise of the celebration, but it appeared mostly to be the woman gushing her thanks, and Cara looking like if she moved, she would be burned. Finally Cara nodded again, spoke a couple words, and made her way back to the table.

It took all of Kahlan’s Confessor training not to beam at the Mord-Sith when she returned looking like somebody had stolen her Agiels. 

“What is wrong with this town, don’t they know that Mord-Sith are to be feared?”

“They’re just appreciative Cara. And the girl admires you.”

Cara answered by returning to her drink. Kahlan looked back at Emily, now munching on a roll of bread.

“What did you say to her?”

“Nothing,” Cara dismissed.

“That was a very animated nothing.”

“Mord-Sith are not to be admired.”

“That’s not what you tell me,” the Confessor’s lip quirked up playfully, “in fact, didn’t you once offer me lessons on how to be more like you?”

Cara shot her a sour look, “you, Confessor, could do well to learn from me,” she gestured across the square, “the girl however should stay clear away from us.”

Kahlan frowned at the use of pronoun, “Cara give yourself some credit, you are not them.”

“The leather’s the same. It’s dangerous for her to think it friendly.”

“Not exactly the same,” she replied. Without thinking what she was doing, Kahlan reached out and traced her fingers down the neckline of Cara’s leathers. Soft leather and even softer skin caused an electric jolt which brought Kahlan back to herself. 

Cara, for her part, had a not dissimilar look from when she was talking to Emily’s mother. Kahlan coughed, turned straight in her chair. Cara shook her head and took a sip of ale. “Close enough,” the Mord-Sith plowed on, “that if she recognizes it, she should run from it.”

“Is that what you told her.”

“More or less.”

Kahlan tilted her head sadly and sighed, “maybe one day girls will no longer have to fear red leather.”

Cara arched a brow, “you planning to devote your days to eradicating the issue?”

“No, but _you’re_ here aren’t you?”

“Oh, so conversion then. That should be quick and easy. Are you and Richard going to escort Mord-Sith one by one into the forest to rescue kittens until you have reformed them all of their misguided ways?”

“Come now, Cara,” Kahlan shook her head at the mocking tone, “there was no converting about it. You saw an opportunity for more and you took it. Richard may have provided a catalyst, but it has always been you. I didn’t always see it,” she shook her head again, “but it was always you.” Cara frowned at being called out but didn’t argue, so Kahlan continued, “there was a time when I thought all Mord-Sith were mindless killing machines, but I cannot anymore.”

“Well you were right about the killing machine,” Cara smirked proudly.

Kahlan rolled her eyes. “The only thing I don’t understand is why you have been the only one, save Denna,” she grimaced, “to walk away from that life since Darken Rahl lost the bond.”

“Well, in addition to being much more lethal, I am also much smarter than my Sisters.”

The Confessor stared blankly. Cara huffed.

“Fear of the bond is as powerful as the bond itself,” she finally explained. “Darken Rahl may have lost control of it, but we can still feel the bond, it still powers our Agiels.”

“But that’s because of Richard.”

“Yes, but most D’harans do not know about Richard _Rahl_ , and even fewer believe in him.” Cara leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice, ensuring only Kahlan could hear, “My Sisters cling to what they know because that is how they were trained. The Lord Rahl failing, dying, losing power in any way, is not conceivable to the Mord-Sith because it was broken into us that it is an impossibility. This is part of why I wish Richard to claim the throne and embrace the bond. So my sisters, so D’hara, can feel the change, and trust in it. Until then, most will continue on as if nothing is different. Because to be caught betraying the Lord Rahl would bare consequences that would turn even a Mord-Sith’s stomach.”

“I thought Mord-Sith feared nothing.”

“They fear that,” she said solemnly. 

Kahlan noted the change in pronoun again, decided it was time to lighten the mood. This was a party after all. “But _you_ don’t?” she smirked, “I thought you said you were smarter than your sisters.”

Cara waved her hand in the air dismissively, waving away the heavy conversation with it, “Well somebody had to keep you all from falling into a hole and dying before the rift could be sealed. I could have hidden in a temple, lounged in the baths and waited for Rahl to return, but then the Keeper would have consumed all life and then were would we be?”

Kahlan couldn’t stop a curt laugh, “thank you Cara, we were very fortunate to have you there to keep us going.”

“And you would do well not to forget it Confessor.’” The Mord-Sith took a satisfied drink.

Kahlan hummed, “Yes, perhaps we should tell the villagers the tale of how you saved all life,” she began to rise, “I think they would love to hear it.” Cara swiftly darted out a hand, squeezing Kahlan’s injured shoulder and dragged her roughly back into her seat.

“Don’t you dare.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how many people are following this story, (or a few people are super obsessed with this story, either way), I thank you all for taking the time to read my work! Its bringing me joy to share it.

There were not enough words in the entire library of the People’s Palace to describe how relieved Cara was to be away from Portree and back on the road. Three days was possibly the longest the Mord-Sith had sat still in her entire existence. 

Three days of sitting, and feelings, and children; she chanced a look at her riding companion. Of Kahlan looking at her like she was some good spirit come to life and, she traced her collar with her finger, touching her. She frowned and shook her head. Not to mention the confessions that had poured out of her own traitorous mouth. She gripped an Agiel. Apparently going stir crazy had side effects. 

Half the village was out to see them off that morning. Even the skittish balding man with the fruit was there. He _smiled_ at her, wished her good journey and handed her a bundle of goods from his stand. And then of course Cara had to endure another round of fawning from the mother and child. She shook her head again. People make such big deals out of the smallest things. 

But eventually they escaped the crowd, made it past the orchards and into the dry grasslands beyond. She rubbed the neck of the black mare she now rode. At least the town had been good for one thing. Cara hadn’t even seen a horse in the barely a village, but somehow, they managed to find this one to part with. Richard and Zedd had taken two of their three horses for their longer journey, which meant her and Kahlan would have had to share and take turns to save the mount.

Of course, it meant another delay in departure when the Confessor insisted on writing a letter to the council in Aydindril, requesting payment be sent to Portree for the beast. But now they could travel much more quickly, and Cara could get some much-needed space from the Confessor. So the delay was worth it. Even if it meant an extra half mark of being stared at by the wide-eyed child.

She glanced over at the Confessor, who was drinking from her water skin. They’d been riding most of the day now and had exchanged few words. Seemed she wasn’t the only one who was in need of some quiet solitude after days of dealing with people. 

It was quite a change from when they first travelled together. Yes, there was often silence, but the daggers the Confessor would stare into her back were louder than any words. Then came Kahlan’s endless chatter. She was worse than the Night Wisp. Like if she just talked enough, it would break down the Mord-Sith training and release the woman held hostage beneath. More than once, Cara had considered taking an Agiel to her own temple just to get a moment of quiet.

But somewhere along the line a mutual respect had taken hold. The conversation became less forced. Moments of companionable silence became longer. And low and behold it turned out the Mother Confessor _didn’t_ die if she stopped moving her mouth. Sure Kahlan still loved to talk, she wouldn’t be Kahlan if she didn’t openly dissect everything she felt and saw. In fact any hesitation to do so left Cara worried… _no_! Restless? Unnerved? Concerned that the Confessor was distracted and more libel to fall pray to an attack. That was it. 

But it also turned out, when it was just the two of them on the road, Kahlan would frequently take to long periods of quiet introspection. So, like now, they would prod along, mark after mark, with only the beat of horses’ hooves and the songs of birds filling the air. It was not unpleasant, Cara thought. The day was not to hot, with a light breeze teasing the tall grass. Leagues of open land prevented any possible threat from sneaking up in surprise. By the next afternoon they would be back into the thicker forests, and then passing through more settled lands. For now though, she could allow herself to enjoy a degree of relaxation. 

Kahlan looked over at her and furrowed her brow in question. Only then Cara realized she had been staring. She quickly covered, “Are you getting hungry?”

“It is getting late, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I was enjoying the ride.” Kahlan smiled at her and Cara ignored the warm twinge in her chest. “Do you want to stop and eat?”

Cara shook her head, she was happy to keep going if Kahlan was, “The balding fruit man gave me this,” she patted a sack tied to her saddle, “if you want to keep going. We will probably have to stop early if we want a fire tonight. It will be hard to find enough fuel in the grass once it gets dark.”

Kahlan nodded her agreement and Cara began working at the ties on the sack. “I think you left Portree more popular than the Head Councilman,” the Confessor teased. 

“Lucky me,” Cara muttered. “I guess I have a place to retire to when I’m done dragging you and the Seeker all over the known world.”

Kahlan laughed, “They’re probably already building you a house.”

Cara shot her a glare. “Apple or peach?”

The Confessor smiled and angled her horse closer, “are there any berries?”

Cara glanced into the bag, around various fruits and vegetables, to a blue-spotted cheesecloth bundled in the bottom, then back at the Confessor. “No.”

Kahlan narrowed her eyes, “ _you’re lying_.”

“You can’t read a Mord-Sith Confessor.”

“Oh really, then let me see the bag.” Kahlan pulled even closer and reached for the sack, and Cara pulled it to her other side. 

Kahlan expertly angled her mount into Cara to bump her as they rode, “I can’t believe you wont share.”

“I am Mord-Sith, Confessor,” she stated frankly, “its hardly my fault if you’ve overestimated my character.” She reached into the sack and pulled out a bundle of carrots, “perhaps you would enjoy some of these, I’m sure the horses are more generous than I.”

Kahlan stared blankly, “You know I could just confess you.”

Cara had to fight the smile that tugged at her lips. “The Mother Confessor would never abuse her powers in such a way.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she mumbled back. 

Eventually Cara caved and dumped half the berries in the Confessor’s hands, keeping half for herself. She also found a small brick of cheese in the bundle, which provided a little more filling for them both than the fruit. 

“What _will_ you do?” Kahlan asked about a league down the path.

Cara frowned at her sudden question.

Kahlan smiled crookedly, “When you’re done dragging me and the Seeker around the known world?”

The Mord-Sith grunted and threw up a hand, “you really think _this_ will ever be done?”

“Eventually, yes,” the Confessor laughed.

“Well you can scratch retirement in Portree off the list,” Cara deflected. She had once hoped that returning to D’hara to help Richard claim the throne was on the list. But that hope was ever diminishing.

They rode quietly a few more moments then, “you would be welcome in Aydindril you know.”

Now it was Cara’s turn to laugh, “could you honestly picture a Mord-Sith in Aydindril Confessor?”

“Easily.” Kahlan sounded irritated.

“Well,” Cara steered away from the surprisingly testy subject, “fortunately there are still countless small animals in need of the Seeker’s services. You know, once we’ve returned Nicci and Rahl to the Keeper.” She sneered involuntarily as she remembered just exactly why they were on this goose chase.

“It’s not your fault Cara.” The blonde’s eyes shot over to the brunettes, and she once again had to remind herself that Confessors cannot read Mord-Sith. “If anything, I’m to blame.”

“How are you to blame for my failure to dispose of that witch’s body?”

“If I had let you take care of her, or just let Zedd burn her with wizard’s fire, instead of running up like a fool to try and control her, then I never would have been confessed in the first place.” 

Cara stretched her neck and scanned the plain. She had forgotten about that, but she could hardly blame the Confessor when things were moving so quickly. “It would have been a great advantage to have her powers at our disposal. You were thinking about protecting Richard.”

“Yes, well it was also very stupid of me. I should have thought it through.”

“Ya, but…”

“But what? You’re allowed to beat yourself up for a momentary lapse in the heat of battle, but I cannot?” Kahlan shook her head, “What if you burnt her body. What if I hadn’t tried to confess her. What if Richard hadn’t handed her his Han. What if the Prelate had any judge of character and never allowed her to join the Sisters of the Light in the first place? We could chase the what-ifs forever, but things are as they are, and now we will deal with them.”

Richard giving Nicci his Han was a pretty big one, Cara thought as they once again descended into a reflective silence. 

\------------

“Wait here.” Cara indicated for her to stay with the horses, then strode off.

“No, I’m coming with you,” the Confessor immediately fell in step behind her and almost crashed into the blonde when she stopped suddenly and turned back.

“What do you think is going to happen to you Confessor, if you’re found lurking around a Mord-Sith Temple,” she said angrily. 

“What do you think is going to _happen to you_?” Kahlan shot back “Are you expecting a welcome home party?” 

Cara rolled her eyes and sighed. Standing out here arguing was only increasing the probability of them being spotted. “Fine, but keep low, and keep quiet.” Then without another word began pushing through the brush again. 

“I think I know how to scout,” came a mutter from behind, causing the corner of Cara’s lip to twitch into a semblance of a smile. 

As they passed from the grassland into more heavily wooded terrain that morning, Cara had realized they were only a few dozen leagues from the Mord-Sith’s most southern base of operation. She briefly considered keeping that bit of information to herself, passing by the turn off, and continuing straight north as planned. 

Taking a Confessor anywhere near that many Mord-Sith was practically begging for trouble. Like waving a steak in front of a pack of starving dogs. And she knew _this_ would happen. That Kahlan would insist on being there. Needlessly putting herself in danger. But then she thought about the previous day’s conversation of thinking with your heart, not your head, and realized that she was letting her… not head, rule her judgment.

Rahl was both travelling with and had, for some reason, sent Mord-Sith to help them at the Pillars. This was the closest Temple for hundreds of leagues. It was almost certain this is where the Mord-Sith had come from. Perhaps already returned. Perhaps Darken Rahl himself was even here. There may not be a better possibility for them to gather information.

She glanced back at the Confessor, there also may not be a better opportunity to get themselves killed. 

She hadn’t wanted to bring the horses too close, so they walked for a good part of a league before the temple came into view through the trees. She slowed and knelt behind a fallen log, careful not to snap any twigs in the under-brush. Kahlan came up beside her and did the same.

They watched for almost a half mark with no movement in or out of the temple. No sign of life in the windows. “What do you think?” Kahlan whispered.

“It’s unusual for nobody to be at the entrance.” A sentry abandoning their post would mean at least a day hanging in chains. 

“Could they all be inside because of Rahl?”

She shook her head, “Unlikely. If anything that would mean more guards. I think I’ll circle around, see if I can get a better look.”

“Good idea,” Kahlan began to rise, “I’ll go this way and meet you halfway.”

Cara quickly grabbed her by the wrist and scowled. Kahlan just returned the look with a challenging one of her own.

“We don’t both need to be trouncing through the bush asking to be noticed.”

“If you’re afraid you’ll make too much noise Cara, you can wait here and watch the front.”

The Mord-Sith’s scowl deepened, but once again, arguing was futile. “Daggers out Confessor.”

Kahlan nodded at her, slipped from her grasp and quietly disappeared into the trees. Cara drew her Agiels and started off in the other direction. She carefully stepped across the forest floor, making a healthy circle around the temple, looking for any sign of activity. It was almost as if the temple had been abandoned.

Or not.

She heard the snap of a twig behind her and spun around in time to block the Agiel flying towards her head with one of her own, then quickly brought the other forward, landing a blow to the ribs of her attacker.

Cara raised her knee, aiming to follow her Agiel into the side of the woman’s ribcage, but red leather twisted out of reach and landed a backhand across Cara’s mouth. The taste of blood trickling from her lip into her mouth only served to excite her as she took a step back and finally took in her opponent.

“ _Cara Mason_. You have to be either suicidal or insane to show up here.” A tall woman, long blonde braid hanging forward over her shoulder, circled around her, piercing her with eyes as blue as Kahlan’s.

“Rikka.” Cara licked the blood off her lip as she smirked, “I should punish you for forgetting the appellation, but after I finish beating you for getting in my way there will probably be nothing left to punish.” 

The taller blonde smiled almost affectionately, “Oh Cara, I’ve missed you. Its really too bad I have to kill you now.”

Cara laughed, watching Rikka carefully as she moved like a cat ready to pounce. “You really think you can beat me?”

“I think I always beat you,” Rikka tilted her head with a grin.

“And I think I’ve given you too many hits to the head if that’s how you remember things.”

“And I think Mord-Sith talk to much,” a third voice broke in, a blade sliding into view across Rikka’s throat. The tall blonde tensed and dropped her Agiel. Kahlan’s face appeared over her shoulder, “Seriously Cara, were you planning on subduing her, or just talk until she died of old age?”

Cara who had yet to move her eyes off the dangerous blonde, slowly shifted her gaze in disbelief to Kahlan, “Did _you_ just accuse _me_ of talking too much Confessor?”

Before Kahlan could reply, Rikka stiffened and paled, “Confessor?” She tried to look back but Kahlan pushed the point of her dagger tighter against her throat. Cara would bet her left Agiel the other dagger was sticking into a kidney. Blue eyes flashed angrily at Cara, “So its true. You’ve been running around with the Seeker and the Mother Confessor?”

Cara didn’t answer the question because it wasn’t really a question.

“Did you bring her here to kill us Cara? Death by confession. Is that your revenge?”

Cara rolled her eyes, “if I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead. Believe it or not Rikka, I have no quarrel with my sisters. Most of those who betrayed me are dead, and if I cross paths with any who remain they will follow Triana’s treacherous ass to the Keeper. But other than that,” she waved an Agiel, “stay out of my way and I’ll have no reason to end you.”

“Stay out of your way? _You_ came here Cara. Why?”

“Same reason any Mord-Sith comes to these Creator forsaken temples. Darken Rahl.”

“You don’t expect me to believe you’ve come back to serve,” the tall blonde scoffed.

“You’re smarter than that Rikka. I am here to kill him.”

“Ha! Well he’s not here,” she sneered, “so why don’t you just leave now, and I wont alert the rest of the temple to chase after you.”

“Is there even anyone to chase us Rikka? Or have the sisters become so lax that they don’t even guard the entrance anymore?” 

Rikka, it seemed, had decided she’d said enough and was suddenly quiet. Kahlan moved around front of the captured Mord-Sith and backed her up against a tree with her dagger. Rikka stared at her defiantly, but Cara had known the woman long enough to see the fear in her eyes. She couldn’t fault her. The Mother Confessor was as fierce and intimidating as any Mord Sith when she had reason to be.

“You know this will go easier for everyone if you just answer our questions,” the Confessor offered. “We know Rahl was here.”

“Just confess me and get it over with,” she spat back. 

“She’s not going to confess you Rikka.” Cara stepped forward beside Kahlan, sheathing one of her Agiels and bending down to pick up Rikka’s.

“You going to torture me with my own Agiel?” the Mord-Sith looked almost amused now.

“No,” Kahlan answered somewhat appalled, “of course not.”

“So you’re hoping I’ll get bored and talk out of the goodness of my heart?”

“Ya, that’s likely to happen.” Cara turned the Agiel around and stepped towards the other Mord-Sith. 

“What are you doing Cara,” Kahlan asked warily.

Cara ignored the Confessor looking only at the tall blonde. “You’re going to tell me what I want to know Rikka.”

“And why would I do that,” The Mord-Sith asked.

“Because,” Cara said staring straight in her eyes, “we are sisters of the Agiel and I am asking you to.”

They stood that way, unmoving for several moments. “Well that’s not fair,” Rikka finally muttered, took back her Agiel and sheathed it. Cara stepped back with a nod.

“Wait!” The Confessor looked between them in utter disbelief, “ _that worked_? _Did that just work_?”

Cara sighed; this was going to be one of those things the Confessor made a needlessly big deal over. She tried to turn her attention back to the other Mord-Sith, but Kahlan wasn’t done. “ _Are you friends_?”

“Mord-Sith don’t have _friends_ ,” both blondes declared in vehement unison. Kahlan put her hands up and took a step back at the mutual scowls. 

“Rikka,” Cara returned to the matter at hand, “where’s Rahl?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well what _do_ you know,” Cara enunciated slowly.

The Mord-Sith cracked her neck, “he arrived more than a fortnight ago. Took his usual pleasures,” she said with a hint of disgust, “then two days before the solstice, road off with most of the temple in the direction of the Pillars.” 

“That many Mord-Sith, sounds like Nicci was his intention from the start,” Kahlan interjected.

Cara nodded her agreement. “And would explain why he sent Garen to help us. To keep us from killing Nicci, and to take her for him if she could.” She turned back to the other Mord-Sith. “And he did not return here?”

Rikka shook her head.

“Do you have any idea where he would have gone next?”

“You know the Lord Rahl does not reveal his plans to us. We are but tools. But it does not surprise me if he was after the Sorceress,” the tall blonde smirked, “she showed up here a few days after Rahl and tried to boil him alive in the baths.”

Cara grinned wickedly at that. “What are you still doing here Rikka?”

She straightened, “the Lord Rahl instructed a few of us to remain behind to guard the temple.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

The taller Mord-Sith snapped at her. “And you know its not that easy to just walk away!”

“Darken Rahl does not control the bond Rikka.”

“Then why does my Agiel work Cara? Why can I feel the bond in my blood?”

“Because the Seeker holds the bond. You feel the bond, but it is different no? Weaker?” The taller blonde did not answer but did not disagree. “How do you think I stand here Rikka, if Darken Rahl still holds the bond? You could walk away and there is nothing he could do to stop you.”

“This Seeker thinks he is the Lord Rahl? He will make a claim on the throne?” Rikka asked, tone half mocking, but laced with a tone of something akin to curiosity. 

It was Cara’s turn to pause. She would not lie to her sister. 

Rikka nodded, “then you know what you are asking of me Cara. I serve the Lord Rahl.” Cara let out a long breath, but it was Kahlan who spoke next.

“Please, Rikka, if there is anything else you can tell us.” Kahlan finally lowered her daggers. “We think Darken Rahl is looking for a way to absorb Nicci’s Han.” The Mord-Sith’s eyes widened a bit at that information as the Confessor continued, “Do you know how he might accomplish that? Where he might go? We can use any help we can get.” 

Rikka eyed her sideways then looked back at Cara, “Well she certainly is a _polite_ killing machine, isn’t she?”

“She does like her manners,” Cara agreed.

“ _You_ are calling me a killing machine?” Kahlan gestured at the Mord-Sith’s leathers.

“I can’t kill someone with the touch of a finger Confessor.”

“I can.” Cara stated proudly as she watched Kahlan, still grasping her knives, press the palms of her hands to her eyes.

“Did I fall off my horse this morning and hit my head?”

Cara smirked, “ _Is_ there anything else you can tell us Rikka? Nicci holds the Han of countless sorceresses, and the Keeper knows what else.” She decided to leave out the part about the Seeker willingly handing over his power. “I don’t think I have to tell you how dangerous Rahl will be if he gets a hold of that kind of magic. He may not control the bond now, but it will be the first thing he goes after once he has power again.”

“You know I would be killed if anyone found out I talked to you Cara. Why would I risk that and then hold anything back?” Cara nodded once. She did know that. “But if anyone would have an idea about this,” Rikka continued, “it would be Berdine. Rahl has had her cloistered away in the Library for years helping him research his magical ambitions.” Cara knew this too but getting anywhere near the library would be a heavy risk to take. “Although I don’t know how you’d plan on getting in there dressed like that,” she gestured at Kahlan, “and with a Confessor on your hip.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” Cara finally sheathed her second Agiel and held out an arm to her sister. Rikka reached out and they clasped at the forearm. “Thank you Rikka. I hope next time I see you I don’t have to kill you.”

“Travelling with the Seeker has truly made you delusional if you think you’d even get close,” Rikka smiled back. “Are you sure you don’t want to come inside and enjoy the baths while you are here? Sister Gemma and Sister Rebeka are inside.”

Cara coughed, willing herself not to glance at the Confessor. “We must get back on the road.” She gripped Rikka’s arm harder as a random thought passed through her mind, her face going blank “does this temple collect girls for training?”

Confusion overtook the other Mord-Sith’s face, “you looking for a pet Cara?”

Cara gripped harder, demanding an answer.

“No Cara, we are too far out. It would be a waste of resources to ferry girls back to the People’s Palace for training,” she hesitated, “maybe in the past, but not since I’ve been posted here. Not since the rift and the banelings appeared.” 

Cara nodded and pulled Rikka closer by the arm, threateningly, before releasing it. “See to it, it stays that way.”

“You know I have no appetite for such things Cara,” the taller blonde bit back. “As long as Lord Rahl is running around with the greater part of the temple, I don’t think you need worry.”

Cara gestured to Kahlan with her head that it was time to go. The Confessor wordlessly moved back into the forest, but Cara took one last glance at her sister Mord-Sith. “Rikka,” she waited for her sister’s eyes to meet her so she could watch them when she told her, “Nikki has the Han of a Confessor.” Cara waved her hand around as Rikka’s eyes went wide, “Just something to think about while you wait in your temple and watch the cards fall.”

\------------

“Thank you for letting me handle that Confessor,” Cara said after they put some distance between themselves and the temple.

“No problem,” Kahlan gestured back, “I am not even sure what _that_ was.”

Cara smirked, but declined to offer clarity as they made their way back to their mounts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am just going to climb up on my soap box for a moment here.
> 
> I read the books many times before the show was a thing. There are many differences between the plot and characters of the two. Some minor, some major. But I was able to look past those, because I was so excited for the Sword of Truth world to be on tv, and the spirit of the material was still there.
> 
> One difference I was not a fan of though, was how (other than Cara and to an extent Denna) the Mord-Sith were depicted as one note, sexy murder bots. Don't get me wrong, that can be fun for a while, but in the book's, to me they are the most complex and interesting characters of the entire world. From the far longer and even more disturbing process of breaking a Mord-Sith, to their individuality and relationships, to how they acted once Darken Rahl was out of power. I love them all, (except Constance, who got exactly what she deserved)
> 
> So on the matter of Mord-Sith, any depictions in this story, will be an homage to that more complex portrayal of them that we see in the books. I hope you all don't mind :-P


	6. Chapter 6

“I hope Richard and Zedd are having better luck than we are.”

A short mocking laugh erupted from Cara. “They are probably still twenty leagues outside of Portree building a little old lady a fence.”

Kahlan smiled as she slowed her horse to fall in behind Cara as the trail narrowed where part of the road had washed out. She looked down at white water ravenously chewing away at the bank. The snowpack in the mountains must have been quite heavy this year for the rivers to be running so high into summer. Or perhaps some distance storm was raising this angry tributary to the Kern. Either way she could sympathize with the restlessness of the current. 

“Well, if they haven’t found anything, I don’t know what we’re going to do next,” Kahlan dismayed as the road widened and she pulled herself even with the Mord-Sith again. “We’ve passed how many villages now and not even a breadcrumb.”

Cara frowned over at her, “A breadcrumb?”

“Yeah, you know,” she waved her hands at the woods, “you find a breadcrumb, follow the trail.”

The Mord-Sith looked at her like she’d gone mad, “Why would anyone make a trail with breadcrumbs, wouldn’t the birds eat them?”

“It’s just a saying Cara.”

“Cloth would make a better marker,” Cara continued, “or stones. Stones can be found anywhere and will not wash away in the elements.”

“Okay,” Kahlan smiled indulgently, “we have passed how many villages now without so much as a stone to follow?”

“A stone _would_ be most welcome,” the Mord-Sith agreed.

Kahlan had to stifle her laughter. “Indeed.” 

They had passed through at least a dozen small settlements in their week on the road and encountered twice as many travellers. Nobody had seen, or at least admit to seeing, Nicci, Rahl, or the herd of Mord-Sith he was apparently travelling with. Kahlan knew even the best liar couldn’t keep information like that from a Confessor. They did not pass this way.

“I think at this point its safe to say if Rahl did return to D’hara, it was not by this route,” Cara said, confirming her thoughts.

“True,” the Confessor agreed, “but the Southern branch of the Kern runs almost straight down to the Pillars from D’hara. Just because he didn’t travel this way, doesn’t mean he isn’t heading there. It is still our best bet until we find a… stone.”

The Mord-Sith tilted her head, “Perhaps we should have back tracked to the Kern ourselves.”

“Perhaps,” Kahlan said noncommittally, “but there would be far more Rahl loyalist on the direct route to D’hara, and if Rahl returns to the People’s Palace it wont take long for word to spread.” She let out a long breath, “somebody somewhere has to know something.”

“We’ll find them.” The Mord-Sith glowered quietly. 

Beside her, Kahlan could see Cara tighten her grip on the reins and was certain she was grasping an Agiel out of sight on the far side of her body. She fought back her instinct to comment; to try and stop her. Who was she to judge if that helped to settle the Mord-Sith? It was something she’d always done and, with Cara’s pain tolerance, was probably no worse than when Kahlan dug her nails into her palms.

She wondered about her sudden lack of appetite to see Cara in any kind of pain. Not that she ever wanted to see the Mord-Sith hurt, at least hadn’t for a very long time, but lately it seemed to be causing some kind of physical reaction in her. When they were at the temple and she saw Cara being attacked, she went charging breakneck through the woods fully intent on confessing the attacking Mord-Sith without a second thought. 

Her recklessness could have alerted more Mord-Sith. Confessing the Mord-Sith could have meant she died, withering in pain before they got any useful information out of her. Not to mention Cara was more than capable of handling a single combatant. And to think she had just spoken with Cara about not letting your heart rule your decisions. Kahlan had yet to use her power since recovering from the Con Dar and, though she had felt better, outside a Mord-Sith temple was probably not the best place to test the extent of her stamina. 

Fortunately as she got closer, Cara’s calm banter with her assailant brought Kahlan to her senses and she settled on using her knives. Not that they learned much about where Rahl was headed. But they now knew he was travelling with a number of Mord-Sith. Knew that, however he had intended on absorbing Nicci’s magic, it had not yet happened; not if the lack of his control over the bond was any indication. 

Kahlan still couldn’t believe that they essentially walked up to a Mord-Sith temple and asked nicely for information. _And_ the information had been given freely! It seemed the more she learned about the reclusive sect of women, the more she didn’t know. 

She had thought them a barbaric cult of power struggle, pain and domination. And to be sure, she’d seen enough to know those were very real aspects of the Mord-Sith life, but she was also learning there was a lot more under the leather. That despite the Rahls’ attempt to produce a cookie-cutter army of menacing drone killers, despite the torture and twisted breakings, it seemed underneath the calm deadly façade, they in fact maintained their individual personalities. That they maintained loyalties and friendships that even managed to transcend the _Lord Rahl._

Kahlan was starting to realize if you pealed away the pain and torture, Mord-Sith were not so different than Confessors. Trained from children to become tools of duty. Living away from a world that feared their power in a tight sisterhood. Stone cold masks worn as part of their uniform. Masters at getting to the truth. Breakers of souls. 

Perhaps the biggest difference was that Confessors could admit that behind the mask they were still human, where Mord-Sith would proudly boast to be insidious weapons. Perhaps the truth for both was somewhere in the middle.

The road began to bend away from the river as they moved closer to the pass. “We should ride another mark or two and then find a place to camp.” It was half a question half a statement. Cara just grunted her agreement. It was still early afternoon, but this close to the mountains they were already riding in the cool shadow cast by their towering height. With just two of them, it was better to stop earlier so they could each take a longer watch and subsequently a longer rest. They were making good time and would be in Galloway in a couple days. There was no need to push when Zedd and Richard were still not due for another three or four.

\----------

They pulled off the road and made their way back to the river to make camp. It would be easier to water the horses and clean up near the river, and the trees were thinner along the banks, allowing more of what was left of the daylight to filter through. Kahlan couldn’t wait to get a fire going. The temperature had dropped quickly in the shadow of the mountains.

Cara had just finished unloading the saddle bags, and Kahlan was washing her face in the glacial cold waters pooling at the rivers edge when it happened. Six, no, seven men came barrelling out of the bushes, marked in the colours of the Dragon Corp. It was too good to be true, she thought as she pulled her daggers free and stepped up from the bank, that they would have made their entire journey without any real trouble. 

Cara was already moving backwards towards her as she fought off the first man to come at her. The Mord-Sith easily dodged his sword and countered with an Agiel to the chest. He screamed, then dropped dead to the ground. Cara was actually _grinning_ when she fell in along side her. “Why do these idiots always announce themselves?”

Kahlan didn’t answer. Two more came at them. Cara went low, bursting forward with speed the men were not prepared for and swept their legs out with her Agiels. Kahlan quickly followed with a blade along the side of each neck as they tripped forward. Two more dead before their bodies even hit the ground.

“This isn’t even a fair fight anymore boys, you sure you don’t want to just leave?” Cara taunted. The last four answered in a rush, two upon each of them with an angry cry. Kahlan could see red leather and Agiels flashing to her side but couldn’t spare a proper glance. A sword was currently making a large arch towards her face. She blocked it with a cross of her daggers then quickly released and rolled aside as she felt the air cutting from another sword coming from in behind. The man she released stumbled directly into the incoming blade, the sickening thunk of blood and bone filled the air.

A quick check across the camp saw Cara had also dispatched of one of her attackers and was currently blocking an onslaught of thrusts and jabs from the remaining soldier with a mocking smirk. She was a cat toying with a cornered mouse. 

Attention back on the man in front of her, Kahlan circled, daggers ready, waiting for him to make a move so she could draw him in close. He was much taller than she and about twice as wide. When he swiped at her, he hit her daggers so hard, she staggered back a step. He was very strong. But she could use that. He swung again, again she parried and stepped back. Again and again. She could hear the rushing water getting louder behind her. She could see the overconfidence glinting in the soldier’s dark eyes. He swiped at her again. This time she side-stepped and sliced into his arm. 

The man was frantic now. Angry and unleashing without thought. When her assailant took a broad swing in an ill conceived attempt to take off her head, Kahlan bent down and thrust both daggers upwards, hilt deep, into his belly. 

Pulling her daggers free, she made her mistake. His weight leaning too far forward, the pull caused the behemoth of a man to come with them, toppling into Kahlan and knocking them both down the rocky bank and into the raging river. 

The cold hit her like a thousand knives. The water was blinding, moving fast. She struggled to tell up from down as her body was battered against unseen rocks hidden in the torrent. Kahlan finally struggled to the surface, sputtering out a lung full of icy water, just to be pulled back under by the current and have her head slammed into a bolder.

She fought with everything she had against the darkness that threatened to take her. If she passed out now, she knew she was dead. She kicked for the surface again as she continued to be dragged down stream. Spotting the bank, she swam as hard as she could. It was two strokes forward, one push back. Her muscles burned, but she finally, finally pulled herself to calmer water. She only had the energy to half-haul herself onto the bank before she fell unconscious. 

\--------

“I’m sleeping,” Kahlan muttered weakly. She wasn’t ready to get up yet.

“Kahlan.” She continued to feel a light slapping on her face, “Kahlan you have to wake up.”

Kahlan tried to lift her head only to be overcome with a wave of dizziness. She brought her hand to her pounding head and discovered it wet. “What the…”

“Kahlan.”

The Confessor felt herself being hauled into a sitting position. She forced open her eyes and was met with a pair of intent green eyes only a few inches away. She fought to focus as fingers began gently prodding her head.

“ _Cara_?” It was almost dark, she noted as her mind tried to catch up; only the dim light of early dusk remained. Her legs were sprawled before her, her feet bobbing at the edge of the water. 

“I don’t think the cut’s too bad,” the Mord-Sith muttered to nobody. “We need to get you dry. Now.”

And then before Kahlan knew what was happening, strong arms wrapped around her and she was being lifted away from the water. Next to the warmth of the Mord-Sith’s body, she suddenly realized how cold she was and curled in. Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably. “Cara what…”

“We took out the soldiers, but you got pulled into the river. It took me almost half a mark to find you.” The Mord-Sith ducked them under the boughs of a Wayward Pine and gently set the Confessor on her feet near the trunk where it was clear enough to stand straight up. “Can you stand?”

It was very dark under the shelter of the tree, hard to make out more than shapes, but it was just as well because Kahlan was having trouble focusing on anything but shivering, and how her hands felt like they were being stabbed with needles. She couldn’t seem to pull them out of a fist. 

“Kahlan?” The Confessor’s eyes shot up, seeking out the face of the Mord-Sith who was still supporting her by the waist. “Can you stand on your own?”

Kahlan tested her shaky legs and nodded. Cara released her and immediately began working at the ties to her dress. “What... what are you doing!” she squeaked, her arms reflexively tightening around her middle.

“Taking off your dress.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because I like my women half drown and dying from hypothermia,” she chewed off, not halting her task, “why do you think? Your body will go into shock. If we don’t get you warm...” Cara let out a breath and let the dress fall to the ground. “Corset too if you can,” she ordered then ducked out of the pine. 

Kahlan flexed her fingers back to life as she stood in the almost pitch-dark shaking. She started picking at the laces of her corset but wasn’t making much progress. She couldn’t stop the shaking.

“Here.” Cara was there again, wrapping a rough blanket around her back, then gloved fingers pushed Kahlan’s aside and went back to work. “I’m sorry. Its from under the horse’s saddle. I took off riding as soon as I saw you go in the water.” The wet corset pealed off the Confessor like a second skin. “I didn’t think to grab anything.” Cara stripped away Kahlan’s smallclothes in a blink, then tugged on her arms urging her to the ground. “Come on,” she ordered, then pulled the Confessor to sit against her body. 

Once in her lap, Cara pushed her slightly away to pull wet hair free from the blanket and away from her skin. Then, after opening the front of the blanket, the Mord-Sith hauled her back tight against warm leather. Cara’s arms were almost crushing Kahlan in place, but she didn’t mind. It gave her mind something other than the fierce shaking to focus on. 

“You’ll be okay.” It almost sounded like an order. 

“Shshhould we go back and…”

“No.” The Mord-Sith cut her off. “It’s too far. Not until you’re warm.”

In the darkness it was hard to say how long they sat, huddled under the tree. Kahlan was larger than Cara, but squeezed into a ball, she felt small. Protected. Slowly the shaking became less violent. 

As she warmed, she also began to drift.

“Hey.” The Mord-Sith shook her lightly, “You hit your head. You can’t sleep.”

“Okay,” she agreed sleepily against soft leather, eyes continuing to droop.

“Come on Confessor.” Cara hiked her up slightly on her shoulder. “Try talking to stay awake.”

“You want me to talk?” she teased between shutters.

“ _Want_ is a strong word,” Cara muttered, “but we need to keep you alert.”

Kahlan noticed the feeling was starting to come back in her fingers as she flexed them experimentally. “What should we talk about?” She could also feel the warm sigh on the top of her head. 

“This is your area of expertise Confessor.”

“Okay,” she managed a playful smile, “how did you feel…”

“I will throw you back in the river.”

Kahlan laughed. “How did you learn this anyway?”

“How to tolerate the ramblings of a Confessor? I am trained to withstand torture you know.”

“No,” Kahlan poked her finger into Cara’s ribs, “this. How to deal with the cold.”

“It’s mostly common sense,” the Mord-Sith mumbled noncommittally.

“I suppose,” she agreed. With the urgency and confidence Cara put to the task it felt like perhaps she had done it before.

The silence dragged on. Kahlan felt her eyes drifting again. Then Cara broke the silence.

“There is more to becoming a Mord-Sith than the pain of the Agiel,” she explained. “We are trained in many areas to enhance our strength and speed and stamina.” 

Cara paused, so Kahlan shuffled closer in her arms to indicate she was listening and to continue.

“Soon after our first breaking, we are taken out into the Azrith Plains and left alone to find our way back. We are dropped in groups, but it is not an exercise in cooperation. It is about outdoing, about showing your strength. Being best. In fact if you are caught helping each other, you are punished. You never see your Mistress watching, but somehow they always know.”

Kahlan listened quietly, afraid if she spoke, the Mord-Sith would stop her tale. 

“Each time you are taken a little further out, to find your way back to the People’s Palace or die in the elements. The plains can be as hot as the underworld, especially in summer, but at night it is as if all the heat is sucked from the world. It is actually better to travel at night,” she inferred, “moving keeps you warm, keeps you alert to the dangers that come alive when the sun goes down.”

The Confessor couldn’t help herself, “didn’t anyone try to escape? To leave?” she asked quietly.

“I only remember one who dared. She greeted us as an example when we returned to the palace.”

Cara didn’t offer further explanation. Kahlan didn’t ask.

“Rain on the Azrith is rare. But when it comes, it comes down hard and fast like a river from the sky. One time we were caught in such a storm. At first it felt like a gift from the Creator. But the sun was going down, and by the time the rain stopped we were left soaking in the dark.” 

Without realizing, Kahlan’s hand had snuck under the Mord-Sith’s arm and was stroking the side with her thumb.

“The temperature dropped quickly,” Cara continued, “below freezing. The cold penetrated to the bone in a way I did not know possible and I was sure I was going to die that night. Then one of the other trainees gathered us. Berdine,” she said with a smirk in her voice, “has always known things. She had us strip out of our wet clothes and huddle together under a rockface for warmth until morning.”

“I thought you were punished if you helped each other,” Kahlan asked curiously, squeezing Cara’s bicep in question.

“Oh and we were,” Cara said almost proudly. “We each spent a fortnight in chains tasting the pain of the Agiel to teach us a lesson on our weakness. But in it, the Sisters also taught me a lesson I don’t think they were intending.”

“What was that?” Kahlan prompted quietly when she didn’t think Cara was going to continue.

“Six of us went into the desert,” she finally said. “Two that refused to join us in our _weakness_ did not return.” Against the warm leather, Kahlan could feel Cara’s deep breath. “I learned that sometimes the right decision is worth the consequences.”

Suddenly the silence was deafening. Kahlan had been cocooned naked against Cara for Creator knew how long, but it didn’t feel a fraction as intimate as the admission that just left the Mord-Sith’s mouth. Cara had just let Kahlan see a piece of her. Given a peak at a key moment in her life that shaped who she’d become. The shock of it rendered her speechless, and before she could find words the Mord-Sith was up and moving.

“I’m going to go back to camp and gather our things.”

“What, now?” Kahlan pulled the rough blanket tightly around her as a chill rushed in, in the absence of the Mord-Sith.

“Yes.” Kahlan could hear some sort of wrestling, “you need dry clothes. We could use food and a fire. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“Don’t you think I should come?” Kahlan began rising but a strong hand pushed her back down.

“You planning a little naked horseback ride Confessor?”

Kahlan was glad for the dark hiding her blush. “I have the blanket.”

“No. You hit your head. Last thing we need is you getting dizzy and falling off the horse. Sit and rest,” she ordered. “But you cannot sleep.” Suddenly warm gloves were being pressed into her hands. “Put these on.” 

She briefly heard the singing of an Agiel, and quickly complied. 

“Are they on?”

“Yes…” she confirmed hesitantly.

Cara found her hand and guided it to the ground beside her. “An Agiel sits an inch to the left. If you find yourself dozing off, touch it with a finger. Do not close your hand on it,” she warned, “it will be like grabbing a bolt of lightening and you may not be able to let go. If you are attacked, well then grab it. But I don’t imagine anyone will find you here alone in the dark.”

“How will you find me again?” she asked.

“I will mark the tree with a stone of course.” Kahlan could hear the smile in the Mord-Sith’s voice and her shadowy form disappeared from the pine.

\------------------

Kahlan adjusted herself to lean against the trunk of the tree and started the long battle of not falling asleep. The cold helped. Not the bone chilling cold from when she was dragged from the water, but it was a chilly evening for a summer night, and naked with only a small coarse blanket to cover her, it definitely wasn’t warm. Occasionally a shutter would go through her, like her body was remembering the icy water. 

Away from Cara’s distracting body heat, and with the feeling back in her extremities, Kahlan was just now coming to realize how beat up her body had gotten in the river. It felt like she’d been trampled by a horse. She was tender everywhere, and somewhat thankful for the darkness so she couldn’t see how bad it was. Her head was killing her.

It couldn’t have been even a quarter mark before the branches started shaking, and movement pushed into the little enclave of the pine. “Cara?” she asked warily, while calmly sliding her hand along the ground towards the Agiel, “that was fast.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Suddenly the pine was awash with light. 

“Shota!” Kahlan reached for the Agiel, but it quickly flew out of reach.

“Come now Mother Confessor, can’t we both just agree that if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead, and save the dramatics for another time?” The witch stood hunched under the branches taking her in with an odd look on her face. 

Kahlan straightened against the tree, suddenly feeling extra vulnerable. The light was hurting her eyes. Her head was throbbing. She pulled the small blanket around as much of her as she could. “What do you want Shota?” 

“Do you know how long I have been travelling to find you, and this is how you thank me?”

Kahlan managed a laugh, “every time we so much as hear your name, trouble follows. You want me to be thankful you are here?”

A burst of fire suddenly shot from Shota’s hands to the ground in front of the Confessor. Kahlan jumped and pushed back against the pine, but when she settled, a small fire was left in its wake.

“Warm up Confessor, the world still needs your pure heart to beat.”

“We defeated the Keeper.”

“The Keeper is never defeated,” Shota shot back, “only subdued for a time. But there are always his minions seeking to command and destroy in the world of life.”

Kahlan didn’t answer. She rubbed her temples and asked again, “What are you doing here Shota?”

Shota considered her, then took a small step forward, hunching over further under the branches and reached out a hand toward Kahlan. She mumbled a few words and Kahlan felt warmth, and the pain in her head melted away. “I see the winds of time Confessor and there is a storm coming.”

“Darken Rahl,” Kahlan found herself inching closer to the fire as she spoke, “he is after Nicci’s powers.”

Shota looked at her a long moment before speaking again. “I don’t think I need to tell you Kahlan Amnell, what a problem it would be for a Rahl to get a hold of that kind of power. To get a hold of a _Confessor’s_ power,” she added poignantly. “The Rahl bloodline is the ultimate corrupter of power. The Rahl bloodlust will feed on the magic like a drug and create a darkness the world could never come back from.”

“You hardly need to warn me about the dangers of Darken Rahl with unlimited power Shota. If that is the extend of your vision, I fear you made a long trip for nothing.”

She was then levelled with a gaze which drained the just returning blood from her face. Perhaps mocking a powerful witch was not the wisest move, even if she was a meddlesome one. 

Finally Shota spoke again, her tone laced with warning. “I see a darkness coming, and only the joining of powers can stop it.”

Kahlan considered her a long moment. “Well that’s slightly more helpful.” There was certainly a lot of magic in their group. “Who’s power, Zedd’s? Mine? Richard’s?”

“It is not clear. But you put too much faith in the Seeker,” Shota scoffed, “he trounces around the world like a child playing soldier.”

“He saved the world from the Keeper!” Kahlan defended.

“Did he Mother Confessor? Or did he point his little compass, hand the Stone of Tears to the Keeper, _as I said he would_ , and leave you to do all the heavy lifting?”

Kahlan narrowed her eyes angrily, “its not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?” The witch shook her head. “I am not hear to argue about the uselessness of the Seeker, only to give you the information, in hopes it might aid you.”

Kahlan let out a long sigh. She may not enjoy Shota’s ways, but she did believe in her sincerity in helping. Though perhaps only for her own motivations, keeping a power greater than her own from walking the world was also in the best interest of everyone. “Thank you, Shota. I am sure your words will reveal themselves in time.”

“They always do child.” A timeless look passed across the witch’s face, and Kahlan not for the first time wondered just how old Shota was. Of course, she was smart enough not to ask. “I have also brought you this.” Shota reached into her fur robes and produced a small vial. 

“What is it,” the Confessor asked as she reached over the fire.

“Powdered gallbladder of an Anzu.”

“A what?” Kahlan blanched as she took the vial. “Why do I want this?”

“You don’t. Its for Zeddicus. For your little Mord-Sith’s side project.” 

“The bond? Why would you care about that?”

“I don’t, except the flow of time shows no successful path with Cara Mason still bonded to a Rahl.”

Kahlan clutched the bottle and pulled her blanket closer. “She has not decided if she is going to go through with it. I think if Richar…”

“I told you I am not here to discuss Zedd’s pitiful excuse for a Seeker! I am telling you what needs to be done.”

“I wont influence her,” Kahlan shook her head, “not for something like this.”

The witch just smirked at that, “perhaps,” then curtly added, “our business here is done.” 

“Wait!” Kahlan urged, “do you have any idea how Rahl is planning to take in Nicci’s Han? Do you know how much time we have?”

“Both good questions, but I do not. It would take a very powerful and complex magic to accomplish such a thing. But Rahl has resources. He wouldn’t have taken the sorceress if he didn’t have a way.”

Kahlan nodded her agreement.

“As for time,” the witch added, “I cannot say for certain. Perhaps a few moon cycles. If this is not stopped, I see darkness before the trees lay bare in the Reach.”

Kahlan nodded again. “Thank you Shota,” she offered once more.

Shota adjusted her furs and stepped to exit but stopped and turned slightly. “I trust you have not forgotten my other warning Mother Confessor?”

“No Shota,” she replied quietly, suddenly feeling ill. “I have not forgotten.”

“Good.” She nodded once confidently, infuriating the Confessor.

“But not unlike Cara, Shota, I will not let my path be controlled by your visions,” she said sternly.

Almond eyes flashed at her, then quickly calmed. “Perhaps not,” she tilted her head, “but you are an intelligent woman Kahlan Amnell. You understand the dangers of a male Confessor. And I think, _perhaps_ , for you its not really a decision.”

Then she was gone, leaving Kahlan alone in front of the small, somehow burning without fuel, fire, to contemplate all her words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a doctor or in any way an expert on the bodily reactions or recovery to extreme cold exposure. Please allow your imagination to flow and ignore the flaws in the facts. 
> 
> Yes, sue me, I did the strip down naked from the cold trope, but I tried to shake it up and make it intimate for non-sexy reasons. Hope it worked. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! Love you guys!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continued to be blown away by the number of hits and kudos and subscriptions this is getting. Thank you all for your support.
> 
> I just want to take a moment here to recognize Terry Goodkind, who passed away two days ago. I didn't always agree with his world view, but he created this incredible world and these amazing characters we all love so much.
> 
> Cara has been an extremely dear and important character to me for over two decades, and I thank Mr. Goodkind for bringing her into my life.

Cara tried to be as quick as she could. She road as fast as she dared in the faint moonlight, back upstream, then quickly packed up the saddlebags and tethered the horses together. She glanced around the campsite turned battlefield and decided she better do something about the bodies as well. It wouldn’t do any good if someone came looking and found this carnage while they were still in the area.

The river was as good a place to be rid of the bodies as any. And it was not like the cold water was going to bother them now. So she began dragging men by their shoulders and ankles to the water’s edge and rolling them into the torrent.

She found one of Kahlan’s daggers on the banks and tucked it in her belt, but the other was nowhere in sight. It was likely lost to the stream. 

The Mother Confessor would need another weapon. 

The Dragon Corp were known for their quality blades, so it didn’t take long for Cara to find a sword she deemed suitable. She untied the scabbard from one of the fallen men before kicking him into the rapids. She secured sword in scabbard to Kahlan’s mount, then surveyed the scene one last time. Other than a few blood stains muddying the earth, it looked like your average patch of Midlands pine forest. 

She nodded to herself, satisfied, and took to her horse. She needed to get back.

She worried that even with the stone marking, it would be difficult to find the correct tree in the dark woods. She was wrong. 

As Cara neared the area she was certain she had left the Confessor, a faint light appeared through thick branches. She furrowed her brow in confusion. Was that a fire? 

Next thing she knew she was off her horse and running back to the pine, worried more soldiers or bandits had somehow found the Confessor in the dark. Agiel in one hand, Kahlan’s dagger in the other, she busted into the Wayward Pine. It took several seconds to catch up to what she saw. 

Kahlan was crouched on her heels wearing only her boots, her body wrapped in the small horse blanket like a towel, in front of a small odd ball of fire, that seemed to burn out of nothing in the middle of the pine. Her Agiel still laid by Kahlan’s foot. A small vial of something green beside that. And Kahlan’s dress and corset were hanging off a nearby branch to dry. 

The Confessor smiled up at her, “you’re back.”

“Yeah,” Cara eyed her wearily, “you wanna catch me up?”

\--------------

The Mother Confessor is an attractive woman. 

It was not a secret. 

Cara has known this since that first day they met, when Kahlan had threatened to kill her in the Drowning Cave. Probably would have known since the day she Agieled Richard and they went to, then returned from the future; had she stopped long enough to consider it. 

Like water being wet, or the wizard being hungry, Kahlan being attractive just is. And sure, over the many months of travelling, Cara may have, on occasion, indulged in the view. Especially in those early days when working with the Seeker offered little other reward beyond dirty looks and mistrust for her efforts. But as her respect for the Confessor had grown, she really had tried not to dwell on it. Even as the Confessor’s strength and intelligence only added to the appeal.

Once in a while her eyes would still wander, yes. But that was because it was amusing to fluster a woman who was built to keep such tight control over her own desires. If it was also pleasurable to the eyes, it was merely a happy coincidence. However, there was a difference between a fleeting glance of appreciation and purposely lingering in thought.

Cara had spent an entire mark with the Confessor’s naked body pulled against her and not a single impure thought had entered her mind. She was disciplined. She was not an animal. Mord-Sith may indulge in their baser instincts from time to time, but they were not rule by them.

At least this is what she told herself as she rode down the trail completely entranced by the sway of the Confessor’s hips, accentuated by the cut of the white Confessor’s dress, as they moved in time with her mount.

Cara felt her fingers twitch.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she muttered to herself.

“What’s that?” Kahlan twisted in her saddle and looked back at her.

“I said maybe we should stop,” the Mord-Sith covered smoothly, suddenly taking great interest in combing her horse’s dark mane with her fingers. “We don’t need to meet Richard and the Wizard for a couple more days. We should properly dry your traveling dress so you can change into something less,” _distracting_ , “recognizable, before we reach Galloway.”

Kahlan laughed, “Is the woman in blood red leather calling my clothes too obvious? Perhaps we should get _you_ a new costume to wear into town.”

“I do not wear a _costume,_ ” the Mord-Sith spat out.

The Confessor just grinned back at her.

“And,” Cara continued, “when people see this _armour_ ,” she waved at herself, “they make way and mind their own business. When they see that,” she gestured at the Confessor, “they come running to have their problems solved.”

“Perhaps you have a point,” she looked around as if gaging a good place to stop. “Although once Zedd and Richard arrive we will probably be recognized as a group anyway.”

“Mmm,” the Mord-Sith agreed. Keeping a low profile did seem to be an impossibility for the Seeker. “Well, maybe we can at least get a night of peace before Richard barrels in, waves his sword around and we have to run off to save a bunch of orphans from a gar.”

“Right,” amused blue eyes took her in, “because we would never waist our time with orphans.”

Cara scowled back. “Not an orphan,” she mumbled under her breath.

A small stream passed under the road, then emptied into the raging torrent that had taken Kahlan the day before. This is where the Confessor chose to dismount and turn them off the main path and up into the bush.

Cara also climbed off her mount as the ground became uneven and the trees closer together. Now walking their horses and free from the distraction that was the swaying Confessor, Cara’s mind returned to the subject that had plagued her since she returned to the Wayward Pine the night before. 

_Shota._

To say returning to discover that meddlesome witch had snuck in to speak with Kahlan when her back was turned was displeasing, would be an understatement. She briefly considered charging back out into the night to track her down and invite her to taste an Agiel, but it would have been pointless. The witch purposely chose her moment when Cara was gone. It was not like she was going to linger around to talk, or receive a beating.

Shota’s omens were of little matter to her really. She was going after Rahl and Nicci no matter what cryptic prophecy told her it was the path to take. As for the _merging of powers_ , that could literally mean anything in a world that was awash with magic of all kinds. Heck, a punched to the face followed by a kick to the groin was a merging of powers of sorts. Cara grinned at the image. She was hardly going to spend time stressing over that until they had more information.

No, what concerned Cara was Shota’s sudden interest in her relationship to the bond. She could feel the small vial of, Ansoup bladder? She shook her head. Whatever it was, tucked behind the belt of her leathers. She didn’t like the idea of the witch messing with her fate. Didn’t trust that it was purely for the _good of the world_. That Shota wasn’t still holding a grudge from when Cara had dragged her sorry ass across the woods of Winterhaven when she spelled Zedd. Or that she had some other unknown motivation.

Shota was smart. She knew Cara mistrust her. Cara gripped her Agiel. Shota would know just offering help would cause the Mord-Sith to second guess any decision she might make to break the bond. Perhaps that is exactly what Shota wanted. Maybe she wanted Cara _not_ to go through with it.

“Hey.”

The voice came from behind her. Cara hadn’t realized Kahlan had paused in a clearing and she had walked right past. She stopped with a frown.

Kahlan stepped to her and brush the arm that was gripping the Agiel but, Cara noted, she did not try to force it away. She let go anyway.

“Don’t let Shota get to you.”

Cara’s frown deepened. How was the Confessor always in her head these days?

“And don’t worry,” she laughed, “I still can’t read you.”

“Could of fooled me,” the Mord-Sith muttered under her breath, as Kahlan, unhearing, returned to her mount to begin untying the saddlebags. 

More and more the Confessor seemed to know exactly what was burdening the Mord-Sith’s mind. Had Cara become so translucent in her time on the road with the Seeker and his emotional band of kitten saviours? No. The Seeker and the wizard certainly were as oblivious as ever to her inner workings. Of course, Richard was not the most perceptive, but Zedd certainly had a sharp mind, when it was not focused on his breakfast. So what was it about Kahlan that she just _knew._

Perhaps she was better off pondering Kahlan’s hips. Cara huffed at her horse as she secured her to a nearby tree and began taking off the saddle. 

“It’s actually quite a gift you know.” Kahlan’s smiling voice tore her from her thoughts once more.

“What?” she asked confused as she gave her mare a rub on the neck. “Shota?”

“No,” the Confessor laughed. “You.”

Cara suddenly found her stomach was in her throat, “Me?” she forced out.

“Yes,” Kahlan tilted her head fondly. “My whole life I have been able to read everyone around me. I know in an instant how someone is feeling, if someone is lying, if they can be trusted.” She absently stroked her own mount, “But not with you.”

“It’s a gift that you can’t trust me?” she asked, somewhat affronted.

“No,” the Confessor laughed again, “I love that I have someone I can trust without reading them.”

Then her attention returned to her horse, leaving Cara to stare at her back.

Yes, she thought, it was definitely safer to focus on the hips.

\---------------

They pulled into Galloway late the following afternoon. The town was tucked in a valley pass, wooden buildings clustered together and quickly moving up the mountainside. A large cobblestone bridge laid over the same cursed river Cara had yet to learn the name of, that had taken the Confessor for a ride. On the far side hand carts and open-aired ramshackle buildings were evidence of the mining activities that supported the town. And although surrounded by towering forest, there was not a spec of greenery to be found in the town proper, which was muddy and damp in a way that screamed of too much traffic and not enough sunlight. 

Once again Cara let Kahlan take the lead, this time back in her dark leather travelling dress, new sword strapped to her back. Not only was it easier to keep an eye on the Confessor from the rear, it also allowed the more friendly face to be the first to greet any passers-by. This enabled them to learn things, like the pros and cons of the various establishments in town, when asking for the inn, instead of the wordless pointing and pants wetting that seemed to happen when Cara was the one to inquire.

That is how they ended up here, at the Ironside Inn. Though the name was cliché, it was said to be one of the cleanest lodgings in town, but also with “the best roasted duck in five hundred leagues”, was certain to be the inn Zedd had planned to stay at since the moment they chose this town as a meeting place. Possibly the _reason_ Zedd had chosen this soppy little town as the meeting place, Cara grumbled to herself.

Kahlan arranged a room with the short, overly friendly, robust woman who ran the inn, who walked around like she was trying to make up for all the sunshine that the town was lacking. Cara made sure to adjust her Agiels as she stressed the importance of keeping their mounts safe. The woman only smiled harder and ensured that around here horses were as valuable as the oar they pulled down from the mountains, and if she were unable to keep them safe and well tended, she would not have a business. Then, after securing their possessions in their quarters, they returned to the attached tavern for a hot meal.

“This stew is amazing,” Kahlan hovered over her bowl, eyes closed, savouring it like she hadn’t eaten food in days. 

Cara felt a tug at the corner of her lip and bit it off. “The roast is quite good as well.” 

Food on the road was more about an efficient meal, than flavour. And with both Cara and Kahlan’s limited background in food preparations, it had been mostly flatbread and whatever small animal Cara was able to track down in the woods. 

That was one benefit, she supposed, to travelling with the Wizard. He always managed to make meals more flavourful, despite their limited preparation time. She tried not to wonder if he used magic to accomplish this.

The barmaid circled around with a pitcher of water, and another of ale. Kahlan signalled that she was fine, and Cara, of course gestured for a refill. The woman took the opportunity to lean over farther than was strictly necessary and display her ample cleavage for the Mord-Sith. “Will you be requiring anything else this evening,” she asked firmly holding Cara’s green eyes.

Cara quirked an eyebrow and held the gaze a few seconds before answering, “Not at the moment.”

“Well do let me know,” she said with a wolfish smile and then sauntered off to the next table.

Cara watched the retreat then returned her attentions to her meal. Before she could take a bite, she caught the gaze of a frowning Confessor out of the corner of her eye. “What’s wrong?”

“She was flirting with you.”

“Well I am quite attractive.”

“I know that but…”

Well, Cara could not let _that_ pass, “You know, do you?” she interrupted with a wolfish smirk of her own.

The Confessor was instantly flushing, “well” she waved her hand up and down at the Mord-Sith, “obviously,” she brushed off. “But its unprofessional. We’re trying to enjoy a meal here.”

Cara briefly considered asking what exactly made it so obvious, but Kahlan was intently inspecting the contents of her stew as if searching for poison, so she decided to skip that, and go straight to the other opportunity to make her blush. “I assure you Confessor; she was being quite _professional.”_

Kahlan’s eyes rose back up in confusion, Cara just tilted her head until her meaning settled in. “oh. OH!” The Confessor’s gaze travelled across the room to the serving girl, “she’s…?”

“Offering extra room services,” Cara finished and enjoyed as Kahlan’s face added a shade of rouge.

“Oh,” she said again flatly. The Mord-Sith took a sip of ale and watched the brunette’s face scrunch up as she pushed a potato around her bowl with her fork. “And are you… interested in those services?”

Cara had to throw a hand to her mouth to keep from spitting out her drink. That was not a question she had anticipated from the Mother Confessor.

“I hardly need to pay if I have an itch to scratch Confessor.”

“Right, how silly of me” she agreed with a hint of sarcasm and hint of something else. 

The conversation had gotten oddly tense for reasons Cara couldn’t grasp and was likely dangerously close to devolving into one of feelings. She couldn’t have that. “Why Mother Confessor, are _you_ interested in those services?”

Blue eyes flashed up in horror. Just when Cara was letting herself feel victorious about it, Kahlan’s horror transformed into an ear-splitting grin. “Richard.”

If Cara’s stomach roiled, she chose not to examine it. “Yes, I’m sure the Seeker would be more than happy to provide such services,” she muttered. It was probably the food.

Kahlan frowned at her, confused a moment, then slapped her arm and pointed, “no, Richard. He’s here.”

Cara turned in time to see the Seeker locating them, breaking into a grin and striding across the room. Kahlan rose to meet him as he reached the table, and he pulled her into a kiss. 

“See,” Cara grumbled again, this time to her ale. 

“Cara!” Richard slapped her on the arm exuberantly when he finally pulled himself away from his exuberance. “You look well.” 

“Lord Rahl,” she greeted, as he slid into the bench beside Kahlan. “No lost kittens on the road? We didn’t expect you for another day or two.”

“Good to see you too Cara,” he grinned and waved for the barmaid.

\---------------

“So tell me again Shota’s words?” Zedd asked between mouthfuls of duck. Cara had not miss watching the wizard eat. 

Richard and Zedd came back with less than no information. D’haran activity in the area was at an all time low, with no sign of Nicci or Rahl. If Rahl had gone west, he was keeping a low profile and avoiding villages and towns. It sounded like their fortnight away was more of a legend of the Seeker victory tour, than anything else. Richard had been practically glowing as he recounted their tale of garnering nothing useful.

“That a darkness was coming and only the joining of powers could stop it.” Kahlan spared a quick glance at Cara. She was leaving it up to the Mord-Sith if she wished to disclose the bit about the bond. It was annoyingly considerate of her. 

Richard wrapped an arm around the Confessor’s back, “I’m sorry you had to face her alone.”

Cara pursed her lips, unsure if that was meant as a jab at her. 

“It’s fine Richard,” Kahlan answered, but Cara noted, didn’t remove his arm, “she was there to help, in her own way.”

Richard squeezed her shoulder with one hand and ran his fingers through his hair with the other. “Well, even if I did put faith in visions, her words seem to be of little use to us.”

“If there’s a new prophecy in play, then we cannot take it lightly,” Zedd warned.

The group fell silent a few moments before Richard spoke again. “Maybe this was what the Sisters of the Light were warning about.”

Three heads turned to him curiously. “What warning, my boy?” the wizard asked cautiously.

He sighed, and removed his arm from the Confessor, before pushing both his hands in front of him on the table. “It was one of the reasons the Sisters tried to keep me in the Palace of the Profits. They had some prophecy they believed meant I was destined to stop a bigger threat and wanted to keep me alive to face it.”

“Wait, there was another prophecy and you didn’t tell us?” the Mother Confessor asked somewhat irritably.

The Seeker sighed again, more heavily. “They’re just words Kahlan.”

“Ya, like handing the Stone of Tears to the Keeper,” Cara couldn’t keep herself from mumbling.

Richard tossed her a hurt look, but Zedd spoke next, “Richard, do you remember the words of this prophecy?”

“It was written in an ancient language I can’t read, but Sister Verna told me it said that the Descendant of two powerful bloodlines must fight a powerful new force after the keeper is defeated.”

“Probably High D’haran.” Zedd took a tear out of his duck, pondering the new information. 

“So the Seeker must join powers,” Cara waved vaguely at Kahlan and Zedd,” with someone to save the world. What else is new.” This was hardly new or useful knowledge, Cara thought.

“Not necessarily dear one,” Zedd mumbled around a mouthful of is dinner. Cara scowled at the manners and the use of dear one, but the wizard continued unperturbed. “In High D’haran, power, magic and bloodline can be interchangeable, because power comes from the bloodline. And descendant literally means joining or merging of two.”

“So the prophecy was misinterpreted, and means what Shota said,” Cara asked.

“Perhaps,” Zedd replied, “or perhaps they are two different prophecies, or perhaps it is the same and means both. Without seeing the words and the order they appear I couldn’t begin to guess.”

Cara thought this is just making things more vague,

“Well then we should go to the Palace of the Prophets,” Richard supplied.

“I was thinking more the Keep in Aydindril,” Zedd said around another mouthful of food, “If I could find reference to this in the ancient codices, it might shed a light on what exactly this darkness is and how to stop it.”

“But will going to either of those places help us, if its hundreds of leagues from Rahl,” Kahlan asked. “Shota said we had time, but not a lot.”

“And if we find Rahl before he absorbs Nicci’s Han, we don’t need to figure out some cryptic omen, just put a blade through his heart,” Cara added.

Zedd took in his comrades and hummed, “We may have to split up again.” The Seeker did not look pleased at this suggestion. “But,” the wizard continued, “we don’t need to decide anything tonight. I suggest we head to Brennidon next. It is a large trading city. They will have news from the broader area, and we can maybe acquire some journey books there in case we do separate again.”

“The garrison at Brennidon would also get reports from Aydindril,” the Confessor added, “reports on attacks, or unusual D’haran activity. That might give us a lead on where to look.”

“Then that’s where we go,” the Seeker declared with a grin, reaching out to grasp Kahlan’s hand in his. “Rahl can’t hide forever.”

Kahlan gave him a big smile, and Cara had to fight back the urge to reach for an Agiel. Apparently, a little time apart was all the Confessor had needed to get over her doubts about the Seeker. Why should that bother her? This was good. The Seeker and Mother Confessor would run off, unite their powers, save the world, then live happily ever after pumping out a bounty of little Confessors to the rejoice of all the Midlands. 

Suddenly the wizard pushed away his bowl and rose, tearing her from her thoughts. 

“Did the underworld freeze over?” Cara asked somewhat bitterly, “Is the wizard actually full?”

“I am going to hit up the apothecary before the shops close,” he replied tersely and with a long steady look. 

“Oh,” Cara picked up on the meaning, “well, I hope you have a good evening then wizard.”

Richard gave an odd look and a chuckle at Cara’s farewell before Zedd nodded his goodbyes and departed. 

The Seeker then returned his attentions to Kahlan. “I missed you,” he brought the Confessor’s hand, still clasped in his, to his mouth and kissed it tenderly, “what should we do tonight?”

Abruptly Cara stood, downed the remainder of her ale and pushed away from the table. She just ate a nice meal. She did not need to lose it watching such lovesick nonsense. 

“Where are you going?” Richard asked with an amused smile. 

Cara caught the barmaid walking passed out of the corner of her eye. “To scratch an itch,” she said, turning away immediately, and not noticing the disconcerted frown on the Confessor’s face as she left.


	8. Chapter 8

Cara was Mord-Sith and as such, did not get hang overs. It was simply that the sun was too bright, and the birds were chattering incessantly… a bright lilt of laughter carried up the trail from behind; and her travelling companions seemed determined to announce their presence to every living creature within a hundred leagues.

She stole a quick glance over her shoulder to the Seeker who was entertaining the Mother Confessor with stories from their time apart. Kahlan’s smiling face briefly met her gaze and fell into an unreadable expression. She must still be mad from being woken up in the middle of the night after Cara’s night of tavern hopping. 

Honestly, Cara had been surprised to find her in their room after the way her and the Seeker were _reacquainting_ when she left the inn earlier that evening. And Cara was absolutely not about to apologize to anyone, least of all Kahlan, for attempting to have a satisfying evening. She was the Mother Confessor, not her mother. 

As a rule, Cara does not pay for her pleasure. And although she was sure she could have convinced the buxom bar maid to join her for the mutual pleasure of it all, that would have required hanging about the Ironside Inn, and bear witness to the Seeker and Confessor’s doe-eyed looks of affection. She refused to inflict that upon herself. She had been tortured enough for one lifetime. 

Fortunately, in a mining town, taverns and gambling establishments were not difficult to find, nor was potential companionship. Two taverns down, the tall dark-eyed man from Nicobarese had potential at first. But after a mark of listening to him prattle on about himself in that annoying accent, the thought of his mouth on her body felt suddenly quite off putting.

So Cara turned her attention to the curvaceous serving girl with the long dark hair, who had been slowly removing the Mord-Sith’s leathers with her eyes, each time she came by to deliver a pint. Cara had her backed up next to the kitchen with a hand in her bodice, when a musical laugh joined by an amused glint of sky-blue eyes sent an uncomfortable wave of familiarity through the Mord-Sith and right out the door.

Finally she came across the handsome blacksmith with the chiselled jaw. Broad shoulders and biceps that could crush a human head were a promise he could give as well as he could take. Two pints later, with his strong hand moving up the inside of her thigh, Cara was hit with a sudden roil of discomfort in the pit of her stomach. She shoved him away and grumbled all the way back to the Ironside Inn, cursing its obviously rancid tavern food, before stumbling unceremoniously into her room.

Kahlan instantly popped to a sit, dagger at the ready, before taking in the Mord-Sith and relaxing. But only slightly. Had Cara been sober, perhaps she would have had a chance of translating the six different looks that crossed the Confessor’s face before features settled into stone and turned her back to pull the covers over herself.

Cara didn’t even bother with her leathers and fell face first onto the bed. It felt like she had only just closed her eyes when she felt a sharp push on her shoulders. She quickly snatched the offending hand, only to realize it was attached to the Mother Confessor when she was able to focus her eyes. 

“We leave after breakfast.” the Confessor said flatly, taking back her hand, and exiting without another word. 

At another stream of the Confessor’s laughter, Cara urged her mount ahead. When she pulled even with the wizard, he was blissfully gnawing on a loaf of bread, like there was not a care in the world. She bit back her sarcastic remark. She was asking him for help after all.

“Cara my dear, would you like me to help with that hang over?”

Cara scowled, “Mord-Sith do not get hang-overs old man.”

“My mistake,” he smiled into his bread, “the sun _is_ awfully bright this morning.”

She grasped her Agiel and took a deep breath. It took everything in her not to draw it and jab it into the wizard’s ribs. When she was calm, she asked her question. “I was wondering if you have made any progress on my request?”

“I have my dear,” he smiled over, “we may not have found any clues on Darken Rahl’s whereabouts, but passing through so many towns, I did manage to collect all but one ingredient to complete the spell.” Zedd’s smile faded a little, “but it is an extremely rare item. If we weren’t tracking Rahl and Nicci, I would dedicate more time, but…”

“Maybe this will help,” Cara pulled the green vial from behind her belt and held it out for the wizard.

His eyebrows went high in surprise “Is that…”

“Anzip guts,” Cara finished, slapping the vial in his hands.

“What’s that?” The Seeker had closed the gap from behind. 

Cara rolled her eyes. She was not ashamed of this. She had only kept it from Richard because she knew he would find some way to take it personally, and there was no point in crossing that bridge until breaking the bond was actually possible and the decision made. She supposed the cat was out of the bag now. “Antsyrup,” she answered.

“ _Anzu gallbladder_ ,” Zedd corrected. “It is extremely hard to find, since the creature hasn’t been seen for almost a millennia. Cara where did you get this?”

“What’s it for?” Richard added.

Cara’s eye caught the Confessor who had also pulled her mount into ear shot. The flat look she had carried around Cara all morning had softened somewhat. 

The Mord-Sith looked at Richard, “to break the bond,” then Zedd, “Shota,” then nonchalantly as possible looked up the trail, bracing for both men to do what men do best, and overreact. 

“What?!” Zedd and Richard yelled simultaneously.

Cara pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long noisy breath, trying to decide which unappealing topic to tackle first, but the Seeker decided for her.

“You don’t want to be bonded to me?” he asked in a small hurt voice.

She should have accepted the hang over cure. Maybe Zedd’s magic would have backfired and killed her, saving her from this pointless awkward moment. She looked back over her shoulder to the Seeker, and asked, “Will you claim the throne of D’hara?”

“No,” he responded as if insulted further, “of course not.”

“Then this isn’t about you Richard. I will not be held hostage to the bond again.”

The Seeker furrowed his brow, “but I would never force you with the bond Cara. I thought you would know that.”

“But it might not always be you who holds the bond,” Cara pointed out. “If you do not strengthen it, it is left vulnerable.”

Richard didn’t answer, instead focused on the back of his mount’s head. If Mord-Sith felt guilt, perhaps that would explain the pang that went through Cara’s chest at the dejected look on the Seeker’s face. “I do not even know if I am going to use it,” she felt the need to add, “I just want the option.”

“But Shota gave you this?” the Wizard interjected, unable to wait any longer. He glanced back at Kahlan, silently asking why this information hadn’t been brought forward sooner.

Kahlan offered no explanation. Cara did. “The witch seems to think my debonding is important to our current predicament.” 

Zedd’s eyes flashed heatedly, “well that seems like a good reason to throw this in the nearest lake!”

Cara smirked bitterly at that, “trust me I’ve thought about it.”

“Cara no.” It was the first words the Mother Confessor had spoken to Cara since she left their room this morning. “You can’t let Shota steer your fate.” The ever so brief frown and flicker of the Confessor’s eyes at the Seeker did not escape the Mord-Sith, before continuing. “You can’t let Zedd, or Richard or anyone else influence your decision on this.” She shook her head once, “it is _your_ life. Only yours.”

Cara couldn’t help but stare back at her suddenly expressive blue eyes a moment longer before returning her attentions to the wizard. “Can you do it with this?” she gestured at the green vial in his hands.

“I can dear one,” he said quietly.

And for once Cara did not take insult at the moniker. Just nodded curtly and pushed her horse further up the trail.

\-----------------

Two morning’s later Cara returned to camp from a successful hunt, with three rabbits slung over her back. Kahlan and Richard were sitting on the fallen hemlock they had built the campfire along side, enjoying a cup of tea. Unceremoniously Cara dropped her haul and began to clean the carcasses, so she could cook the meat.

“Ah, Cara,” the Seeker complained, “Do you have to?”

“If you don’t want to listen to the Wizard grumble for the next ten marks about his stomach, yes I do,” she answered as she one by one jammed the cleaned animals onto spits and angled them over the fire.

As if on cue the wizard appeared out of the brush, “oh I do love roast rabbit,” he said, trying to catch a whiff of cooking meat that had only just been put to flame. 

“You would love it if I roasted the Seeker’s boots,” Cara muttered as she tossed the entrails into the fire and turned to dry and pack up the hides. 

She had discovered some time ago, that she could get a decent amount of coin for the various skins of the animals she hunted for their food, and had began drying them to keep for sale. Not that Mord-Sith needed money, but the Seeker frowned upon intimidation as a form of payment, and Cara found having her own silver on hand preferable to relying on her travelling companions when there was something she required.

Her coin purse grew quite nicely over the past months, to the point that now she would only bother saving the hides if they would fetch a good price. These three pristine white rabbit furs would do just that. Being summer coats, they would not make for particularly warm clothing, but soon, what was essentially rubbish would be worn around the shoulders of some highborn Brennidon snob, and Cara’s purse would be all the fatter for it. 

“Maybe if you marinated them in Ambrosio’s double mustard sauce,” Richard joined in the fun.

“You may laugh, but Ambrosio could make anything edible!” Zedd proclaimed with an indignant wave of his hand. That is when Cara noticed the small bottle clutched in it. She stood and met his gaze.

The wizard nodded, “its done, I need but one more ingredient.”

“I thought you said the Azeer was the last,” she frowned.

“Anzu. And don’t fret my dear, I just need a drop of blood from the one to be unbound.” 

Cara quickly reached for the knife she had been cleaning the rabbit with, began wiping it on her pants, then pulled off a glove. When she raised the blade to her palm the wizard halted her.

“Ah,” he held up a long needle, “I only need a drop Cara.”

The Mord-Sith rolled her eyes, but held out her hand. Zedd proceeded to prick her finger and squeeze a drop into the small bottle. The greenish mixture flashed blue, then the Wizard carefully placed the bottle on the ground. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of white sand and used it to draw a triangle and circle around the vial, chanting in some language Cara had never heard.

The potion went from red, to black, to white. The sand caught fire and quickly burned out, leaving the small bottle of once again green liquid behind. “That should about do it,” the Wizard declared, putting a small stopper in the top of the vial, and returning to his feet.

Cara took a step forward, “it will break the bond?”

“Not exactly,” Zedd replied.

A wave of frustration and anger surged through the Mord-Sith. It took all her self control not to pull her Agiel on the wizard. “Then what was all this about?” she bit off tersely.

“Please, sit,” Zedd said patiently, “this is very powerful magic Cara, and there is much you need to know before you use it.”

“Of course it is,” she muttered but complied, sitting on the fallen log next to the Confessor, placing her arms behind her and leaning back expectantly.

The wizard gathered his chest up like he was about to pronounce the history of creation. “The magic of the bond is too ancient, too powerful to be broken by anything within my means.” He held up the vial, “but this will allow you to transfer your bond to another. Allowing you to sever the ties to the Rahl bloodline.”

Cara’s face soured, “So I would trade one Lord Rahl for what, a random idiot on the road?”

“No, no,” he fretted. “The bond needs magic to hook to, in order to complete the transfer.”

“So, I have to bond myself to you? Or some chattering wisp?” Cara began to slide her hand across the bark where it lay, intent on her Agiel. On its way, it hit the smooth warmth of the Confessor’s hand, also sitting on the log between them. She felt the slight brush of a thumb and momentarily caught Kahlan’s eyes. They were practically bleeding with soft encouragement. Cara quickly folded her arms and scowled at the wizard. “I think I’d be better off with a Rahl.”

“You don’t understand Cara.”

“Maybe because you aren’t making any sense.”

Zedd once again ignored the slight, “You have magic Cara. From the bond.”

An insult died on the Mord-Sith’s tongue and more confusion filtered in. “But that magic comes from the Lord Rahl,” she nodded her head in the Seeker’s direction. 

The wizard wagged his finger. “What came first Cara, the chicken or the egg? It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s ridiculous, the egg came first, or else there would be no chicken.”

Zedd dragged his free hand over his face, “Spirits Cara, that’s not the point. It only matters that the magic is in you, and it will allow the spell to take hold.”

She stared at him a long moment as the reality settled in, “so I break the bond by transferring it to myself.”

“Exactly!” the wizard proclaimed excitedly.

Cara just scowled deeper, “You couldn’t have just said that in the first place.”

Zedd ignored her, “There’s more.”

“Of course there is!” she threw her hands up. 

“Cara,” it was Kahlan, gently pulling her arm down with the same soft smile. The blonde once again tucked her hands under her arms and waited.

“This is _very_ powerful magic Cara.” Cara bit her lip hard. “It is extremely dangerous. There will be pain.”

“I am used to pain Wizard,” she reminded him.

“Of course dear one, but this has never been done before and I cannot guarantee how bad it will get.” He paused, “In fact, I can’t guarantee it won’t kill you.”

“What!” It was Kahlan who voiced the question this time.

“It is highly unlikely,” Zedd quickly assured, “but the spell will essentially have to burn out the magic of the old bond as it imparts the magic of the new. It will be like a war of magic in your blood. The spell will ensure the blood bonded to it,” Zedd shook the vial, “will win that war in the end, but I cannot guarantee it won’t be a painful battle. If Cara weren’t Mord-Sith, I would be more concerned, but,”

Cara abruptly stood, “Right, so I what, drink this, endure some pain, and I am my own lord?”

Zedd nodded, “You will also need to make an oath from the heart, bonding yourself to… well you.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Cara smirked, “nobody knows better than me how great I am.” She held out her hand, Zedd slowly handed it to her but stopped short.

“There is one more thing.”

This time Cara couldn’t hold back the eyeroll. 

“Magic sometimes has a way of taking on a life of its own. We are creating a new bond from an old.” The wizard paused as if to convey the seriousness of the situation. 

“ _And,_ ” Cara sighed impatiently.

“And I don’t know Cara. That is just it. I can’t even begin to speculate because no magic like this has been done before. Maybe nothing, maybe something.”

Well at least the wizard was acknowledging the menace that was his erratic magic. She simply nodded and took the vial from his hand. “Thank you Zedd,” she said sincerely. She glanced at Richard and Kahlan, neither of who’s facial expressions she was up for examining at the moment, and gestured at the rabbits still roasting on the flame. “Those will be ready in half a mark. I’m going to clean up.” 

\---------------

You would think by now that these rogue bands of D’haran soldiers would have learned that a dozen men were not nearly enough to mount an attack on the Mother Confessor and her companions with any hope of success. Still, Cara was never one to pass up a chance for a good workout. And, she noted with a quick survey of the forest, with the lack of raging streams nearby, she could relax and not worry about the Confessor going for another swim. 

She quickly peaked over her shoulder to Kahlan fighting at her back, expertly wielding her D’haran blade against a pair of combatants. When they first met, she had known of course that Confessors trained in weaponry for their own protection, but she hadn’t been prepared for the deadly efficiency in which Kahlan moved in battle. It was a lethal ballet of spinning blades and violent precision. 

Unfortunately with a D’haran blade currently inbound at her own head, she did not have the time to stand by and admire the show. Cara quickly deflected the incoming sword with an Agiel, then spun around and backhanded her attacker across the head with the other. He dropped to his knees and she finished him off with a twist of the neck.

She looked up in time to see another soldier running blade first at the Mother Confessor from behind. Cara charged at the man like a bull, wrapping her arms around him and slamming him to the ground. A couple swift punches to the face, was followed by an Agiel to the chest. He screamed, jerked, and fell silent. 

Richard was across the clearing pulling the Sword of Truth from a now corpse, and Zedd was shooting flames at soldiers as they tried to get to the Seeker. Cara scrambled to her feet and circled around behind the two men still engaged with the Mother Confessor. One of the men spun off to come at her. She smirked maniacally at him as his friend, left alone, immediately succumbed to the Confessor’s blade. Cara didn’t even have to raise an Agiel to him, before Kahlan’s sword was protruding through his stomach. She reached out and patted his cheek as the Confessor pulled her sword free and he fell to the ground. 

In only a few minutes the ground had been littered with bodies. 

Cara tilted her head and grinned at the Confessor. “So, move camp a little further up the trail?”

Kahan shook her head, but Cara could see the smile playing on her lips as she cleaned her sword on the dead soldier and returned it to its baldric on her shoulder. 

\-------------

They rode quickly to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the carnage they left behind, moving away from the main road to a lesser travelled trail, which they would continue to follow for the last couple days until they reached Brennidon. 

It was after dark by the time they stopped, not far from the small lake where Cara now leaned over a rock, cleaning blood off her leathers. The sky was clear and the near full moon shone bright. Now out of the mountain passes, the summer night was again warm, as was the small lake that the Mord-Sith had just bathed in, her shift sticking lightly to her damp skin as she worked.

She heard the soft rustle of an approach through the bushes and didn’t need to look up to know who it was. “Good evening Confessor.”

“Cara,” she smiled, “Are you almost done? I was hoping to get a bath in before Zedd has dinner ready.”

“Really Kahlan,” the Mord-Sith rolled her eyes while meeting the Confessor’s blue, “after all we’ve been through you can’t bathe in a dark lake behind my back?”

Kahlan pursed her lips and stared a moment before moving to some rocks a few yards away, where more rustling indicated the Confessor had begun to disrobe.

“There’s soap there,” Cara said gesturing beside her without turning. As tempting as it was to encourage the blush that would ensue should she glance at the undressing Confessor, she had just assured her that her virtue was safe, so she resisted. “The water is very nice,” she added.

“Thank you,” came a mumble from beside her, followed by splashing in the lake. 

Cara finished cleaning and drying the leather and began rubbing in a new coat of protective oil. A comfortable silence surrounded the night. After years of the routine, cleaning her leathers was cathartic. For a few moments there was nothing else. No Nicci. No Rahl. No bond. Just the repetitive circular motions of the cloth. The smell of oil and leather. Finally satisfied, Cara left the leathers for the oils to set and turned to sit on another nearby rock, facing out at the lake. With only an occasional splash and the sound of crickets breaking the air, she took in the clear night sky and thought about her pending decision. 

Cara wasn’t one for deep introspective. She knows what she was. No point dwelling on it. And though she may not know exactly what she wants to be, she knows what she doesn’t want to be, and that is good enough for her. But this choice. Severing the bond, was not an option she ever truly believed she would have.

On the surface, it is easy. Nothing was more black and white. Cut the bond, claim your freedom. But to be Mord-Sith was to serve. It was the only life she had ever known. And although much of that service was to an undeserving sociopathic nightmare, there was a certain sense of accomplishment and pride that came from having a purpose and being good at it. Especially since she started following Richard and the Mother Confessor around the Midlands. Cara wasn’t sure where it would leave her when she no longer had the bond driving that purpose.

As if materialized by thought, Kahlan appeared beside her, dressed and attempting to dry her hair with a small towel. “That was wonderful,” she said.

The Mord-Sith hummed her agreement and continued to look up at the stars.

“They really are beautiful, aren’t they?”

Cara glanced over with a _you don’t really expect me to answer that_ look and the Confessor smiled.

“My mother used to tell me they were the Good Spirits watching over us,” Kahlan added wistfully, turning her attention back to the sky.

“My mother used to tell me the same thing.”

Cara said it without thinking, but the usual visceral reaction to letting something close to her slip was missing. Kahlan just seemed to have this _way_ of pulling things out of her. And it was becoming less uncomfortable. Yet another thing she did not wish to reflect upon. 

These bouts of weakness did not seem to diminish the Confessor’s opinion of her at least.

They sat in companionable silence for a while longer before the Confessor moved to return to camp. She gathered her things then trailed a hand across the Mord-Sith’s shoulder as she passed. “Don’t over think it Cara. When the time is right you will know what to do.” She gave a quick squeeze. “Just listen to your heart, it wont steer you wrong.”

Cara scowled, which of course Kahlan returned with a bright grin before walking back towards camp.

\-----------------

Cara woke to the sun peaking through the trees and the smell of some ungodly concoction cooking on the fire. “Creator wizard, please tell me you aren’t cleaning your socks where we cook our breakfast?”

“Its mushroom stew Cara,” her stomach turned as he continued, “I know its not ideal, but our supplies are running low. We will be in Brennidon in two days then I will take you to a place that serves the most delectable pheasant!”

She pushed herself to a sit and peaked over at the boiling liquid Zedd was poking with a stick. “I don’t think we’ll make it to Brennidon alive if we eat that.” She rubbed her hands over her face, rubbing away the sleep. “Give me a minute and I’ll go find something edible.”

“If you insist,” the wizard replied far too innocently. Cara eyed him suspiciously, knowing she had somehow just been played. 

“Whatever,” she muttered. A palatable breakfast was more important than her pride. He could have just asked.

The Confessor was across the fire rolling up her bedroll and organizing her pack. The Seeker came strolling out of the woods with a grin on his face, melting into an offended grimace as he approached the fire. “What is that?”

“Don’t worry my boy,” Zedd stated proudly, “Cara is about to go off to rescue our meal!”

Cara shot him her best glare, as she packed up her own bedroll.

“So we’ll be here a while longer?” The Seeker brightened and immediately turned to the Confessor. “Would you like to go for a walk?” He said it almost shyly with a quick glance around. “I mean, it would be nice to be alone for a while and… talk.”

Richard extended his hand expectantly, and the Confessor took the offer and rose with a tight-lipped smile. “I think that’s a good idea Richard.”

He kissed her cheek and they walked off, hand in hand, in the direction of the lake. Zedd smiled after them. Cara snatch her bow and quiver from where they leaned against her saddle and stormed off in the opposite direction.

\------------

It took less than half a mark for Cara to bring down a pair of quail and return to camp. Zedd’s eyes practically bulged out of his head and he skipped off into the woods to find some wild herbs and tubers that were a “requirement” for quail stew. The Mother Confessor and Seeker, Cara noted, had yet to return from their _walk_.

Not that, that should upset her. It was just, who did they think they were kidding? Cara violently defeathered the birds, made quick work of the bones and tossed them in the pot of boiling water. They were all adults here. It had been nearly a full moon cycle since the Confessor and Seeker had discovered their _all powerful love_. Even with the Confessor’s reservations, she had two and a half decades of repression and self-denial to work out. It would be a miracle if they returned to camp before the first snows. 

A loud snap alerted the Mord-Sith that somebody was indeed returning to camp. It was Richard. Alone. The Confessor must still be composing herself.

If her hand skimmed across her Agiel, it was strictly by accident. 

She watched the Seeker stiffly move across camp and begin recklessly stuffing his belongings into his pack. The words rolled off her tongue bitterly before she could stop them, “if you are still this tense Lord Rahl, I think you did it wrong.”

“Save it Cara,” he said shortly as he turned and began saddling his horse.

Cara’s bitterness melted into confusion as she stood. Something was off. “Richard? Where’s Kahlan?”

“That’s an order!” he barked.

Cara stiffened, ready to bite back, but duty beckoned. She bowed her head but did not try to hide the acerbic tone from her voice. “Of course my Lord.” She gazed off towards the lake, wondering if she should go look for the Confessor.

A loud sigh breezed in from beside her. “Cara I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize Lord Rahl, it is not a Mord-Sith’s place to question,” she responded briskly.

“Cara.”

The dejected tone of voice lured her head around. The Seeker stood running his hands through his hair. The Mord-Sith waited for him to continue.

“She won’t…”

“Consummate your undying love?” she finished when he didn’t. This time Cara did attempt to keep the acid from her voice but by the look the Seeker was giving her, he didn’t appreciate the effort.

“Kahlan said that if we… _if_ we end up together,” he chewed out harshly, “that she cannot risk having a child with me.”

Now Cara’s anger was flaring. She tamped it down. “Surely you must understand why?”

“Cara...” he started to explain, but she didn’t want to hear it. It took all her training not to step forward, grab her Lord Rahl by his shirt collars and throttle him.

“Richard, we literally lived in that future. There was nothing left. How could you ever risk that?”

The Seeker threw up his arms, “no child raised with love from Kahlan and I could be like that.”

“Kahlan raised that maniac Richard! He was twisted before he was even fully grown.”

“But he was _Rahl’s_ ,” Richard threw back desperately. “If Kahlan would just come back to the Westland with me and we could raise our children in peace and…”

“Richard!” This time Cara _did_ take a step towards him. Richard took a step back. “That woman,” she pointed towards the lake, “is the ruler of the Midlands. The last Confessor. She literally bears the weight of the world on her shoulders.”

“I know Cara, and if she would just let me…”

“No. Richard.” Her green eyes bore into him. “Kahlan does not need you to save her. She needs you to stand beside her. She needs you to share her burden, not protect her from it. And if you,” she said pointing directly at his face, “are not wise enough to do so, then perhaps you do not deserve her.”

Richard stood quietly for a long time without saying anything. Cara threw another log on the fire and went back to tending her things. Finally, Richard finished packing up his mount. “I’m going to scout ahead,” he said quietly, “I’ll wait for you a few marks up the trail.”

Cara grunted her acknowledgement but did not meet his gaze. Her eyes instead settling on the bottle of green liquid tucked into the side pocket of her pack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Cara cleaning her leathers while Kahlan bathes is a thing now. This is the second time that happened :-P 
> 
> I was trying very hard for my own compulsion to alternate POV's each chapter, but I needed this one to be in Cara's so you got two Cara chapters in a row.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.   
> Thank you again for your readership!


	9. Chapter 9

Kahlan dipped the cloth into the bowl of cool water and wrung it out, before again wiping the sweat off the brow of the unconscious Mord-Sith laid out beside her. She was still too warm, and trembling a bit, but at least she had stopped flailing. She was going to kill Cara for taking the potion when nobody was around to watch out for her. 

_If_ she woke up.

The Confessor quickly shook off the dark thought. It had been a full day, but Zedd had looked Cara over and felt there was no reason to worry that she wouldn’t rouse “in good time.” Apparently Kahlan and the wizard had very different definitions of what "good time” meant.

Zedd was now off searching for some flower he said would help with the “mother of all hangovers” Cara would be waking up to. Richard was off in the woods hunting dinner, and probably still moping. Both from the conversation they had at the lake, and the strip the Confessor had torn off him after he turned up from a half day disappearing act. 

She knew her words were not what he had expected when he led her out to the quiet willow covered cove on the banks of the nearby lake. And perhaps that had been somewhat her own fault. Ever since she had her encounter with Shota, she had felt a need to push back against the witch’s words forcing her hand. 

As much as she had encouraged Cara to ignore Shota’s meddling, Kahlan was suddenly compelled to rail against the endless forces of predetermination that seemed to control her own life. There was, after all, ways her and Richard could still be together, without bringing a male confessor into this world. So when Richard returned from scouting for Rahl, she threw herself into it and tried to recapture the spark that had danced around them for much of their time on the road.

But Kahlan was coming to accept that the problem wasn’t just Shota’s warning. She had loved Richard from the moment he looked in her eyes and held her hand without fear. The first to do so. Richard was kind and brave and handsome. But she also loved him before she really knew him. It was an immature love, of, in many ways, an immature man. The Seeker was not unlike the torn version of Kahlan who lived only with her heart and no head. But that was not Kahlan. Kahlan was heart _and_ head.

She had let Richard live in his fantasy of their life in the Westland for too long, and it was long past time for Kahlan to lay down the reality of the situation. She had hoped after all their trials he would come around. But she was beginning to fear that Richard was never going to understand or accept a life born of duty. Never understand or accept why Kahlan could never turn her back on _her own_ duty. 

And by the lake, when the Seeker stepped to kiss her, and she stilled his hands to compelled him to sit and listen, these fears were only further cemented. When she told him she intended to return to her life in Aydindril when this was over, he would not hear it. When she told him that if he ended up being apart of that life, they would not be able to bear a child, he reacted with hurt and an almost violent anger.

Eventually, after yelling themselves hoarse, Richard stormed off back to camp. Kahlan sat on a rock and cried. She had just composed herself when she heard the hair-raising scream come from camp. A scream that came from Cara. The Confessor cursed herself for not bringing her sword but drew her single dagger from her boot and ran back as quickly as she could.

Zedd arrived back to camp at the same time, both their eyes falling on the Mord-Sith withering on the ground, empty vial strewn forgotten in the dirt beside her. Kahlan was instantly kneeling beside Cara, cradling her head in her lap, brushing her hair from her face, pleading for response, and silently cursing the Mord-Sith stubbornness. It was almost a mark before she realized Richard’s horse was gone. Even then, with Cara in her arms moaning in pain, she could hardly spare a thought for it.

The Seeker came riding back into camp mid afternoon, relief evident on his face when he found them all still there. A look that turned to confusion, then guilt when he saw Cara laying in the Confessor’s lap. Apparently, he had ridden up the trail to clear his head, and Cara had been too unconscious to relay the message. Since then his overhelpfulness, when he wasn’t making himself scarce from camp, had the Mother Confessor questioning what exactly had happened to push Cara’s decision to so suddenly sever the bond.

“Did the wizard mess up his spell and turn me into a sword?” a weak voice croaked below her.

“Cara!” Kahlan exclaimed in palpable relief, cupping a cheek, and lightly brushing the Mord-Sith’s temple with her fingers. 

“Why are you weeping on me Confessor?”

Kahlan brushed her own cheeks to discover they were in fact wet. She hadn’t even noticed. She didn’t care. “Cara you took the spell.”

Cara grimaced as she tried to push herself to a sitting position. Kahlan reached to support her, one hand on her back, one on her arm. 

“And you are upset you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to the bond?” The Mord-Sith gripped her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

“No Cara, I am upset you’ve been unconscious and writhing in pain since yesterday morning.” Kahlan realized she sounded too harsh, but Cara only glanced around the encampment with a slightly lost frown. “Did it work?” Kahlan finally asked quietly. 

Blonde head turn towards her, and green eyes fought to focus. “What?”

“The spell?” Kahlan’s hand slid down to squeeze the Mord-Sith’s wrist encouragingly. “Are you still bonded to Richard?”

Cara’s eyes followed the Confessor’s hand and for a moment she just stared at it and breathed deeply. “No,” she finally said, eyes returning to Kahlan, sitting up more assuredly, “it worked.”

Kahlan offered her a small smile, “and how do you feel? Does everything else seem… normal?”

A blonde brow quirked up, then suddenly green eyes went wide, as if realizing something she hadn’t considered. The Mord-Sith started fumbling at her side, “where are my Agiels?”

“There,” Kahlan pointed, “You were very restless for a while, I took off the holster.”

Cara practically dived at them, gripping them tightly, then shoulders slouching in relief. “They still work. The magic… I didn’t even think. But they work.”

Kahlan took the advantage of the Mord-Sith’s distracted contentment to brush a few blonde hairs away for her brow. It was very rare for Cara to suffer touch from anyone. Now that she was coming back to herself this would not be permitted much longer. For some reason, the Confessor felt compelled to get them in while she could. “So you’re good then,” she asked with another brush.

“I’m great.” She sounded almost surprised, and the smile that followed rivalled that at the birth of the Night Wisps. 

Kahlan was quickly caught up in it.

Cara pushed to a stand, tried to take a step and immediately toppled over. 

\--------------

“Stop looking at me like that Confessor,” Cara grumbled as Kahlan glanced back over her shoulder at the Mord-Sith for the hundredth time in the last mark. 

That caused a spike of warmth to travel through the Confessor’s body. A grumpy Cara was a good sign she was getting back to normal. Even after she woke up, she had been weak and dehydrated, and when they finally got back on the road the next day, she had been abnormally subdued. A quiet Cara was not unusual per say, but while she may not be the most talkative of their travelling band, the way she carried herself _was_ loud. Alert and demanding. Yesterday she had seemed drained and withdrawn. Small. Despite her stature, Cara never felt small.

“Like what,” she asked innocently.

“Like you’re worried I’m going to fall off my horse.”

Kahlan playfully quirked an eyebrow and let her horse fall back in line with the Mord-Sith. “Are you? We could tie you on,” she offered.

Cara tilted her head in threat, “try it and you’ll find yourself tied to the nearest tree and left for the gars.”

The Confessor smiled broadly; it was good to have her back. “You seem better today.”

The Mord-Sith sighed, once again looking like she was suffering “I’m fine Kahlan.” She cracked her neck as if to shake away the looming feelings, “I am far stronger than the wizard’s haphazard magic.”

Kahlan wasn’t so sure that haphazard magic hadn’t just about killed the Mord-Sith, but when she opened her mouth again, her tongue was frozen by narrowed green eyes.

“We are almost to town Confessor,” Cara dismissed, “look alive.”

\-----------------

The Mother Confessor and the Seeker were immediately recognized and escorted to the Captain of the Brennidon Garrison’s private quarters. 

“I’m Captain Freedman, Mother Confessor. Its an honour, please sit.” The stocky man gestured at the chairs in front of his desk. Kahlan sat, flanked by Richard and Zedd. Cara of course stood by the door, ever alert. The Captain twisted the corner of his bushy moustache, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “What service can I be?”

“We are looking for any information you can give us on unusual D’haran activity in the Midlands,” Kahlan answered.

“Especially Mord-Sith,” Richard added eagerly. “We have reason to believe Darken Rahl is traveling with a number of them.”

Kahlan pushed down the wave of irritability that came at the interruption. After Cara had woke, Richard’s mood had turned from walking on eggshells in the background, to keen leader. He took point on the road, making endless suggestions and theories on how to handle Rahl. She knew this was his answer to their fight by the lake. His way of showing he had heard her and was making an effort.

She should probably be happy about that. Instead she found she was just annoyed.

“Darken Rahl?” the Captain questioned, “I thought he was killed when the Seeker stopped him from using the power of Orden?”

“He has brought himself back with dark magic,” the wizard supplied, “but he himself has no magic.”

“We are trying to hunt him down and stop him before he can get his power back,” Kahlan said, “do you have any information at all that could be useful? Anything you’ve heard? Any news from Aydindril?”

The burly man leaned back in his chair and twisted moustache again, “there were rumours of an unusually large contingent of Mord-Sith riding near the boundary to the Old World.”

“The Old World?” Richard repeated in disbelief.

“Hmm, yes,” replied Freedman, “but when scouts were sent to confirm, nothing was found. We chalked it up to an overreaction.” He glanced unwittingly at the Mord-Sith standing at the door, “People tend to panic when they see the red leather.”

Zedd scratched his chin, “If Rahl has somehow managed to cross into the Old World, I don’t know how we would get across to track him.”

“We’ll find a way,” Richard said enthusiastically, as if a thousand years of wizardry hadn’t already tried to find a way.

Kahlan could feel the eyeroll from behind her. Or maybe she was just feeling the one threatening on her own face. “Is there anything else Captain?”

“There has been some news of members of the Dragon Corp amassing in the north near Toth'Rang.”

The Confessor frowned at that. All they needed right now was a war on top of everything else. “With D’hara in such disarray, do you really think they are gearing up for war?”

“I don’t know Mother Confessor. Only that there’s been concern enough for Aydindril to keep an eye on it.”

“With Rahl a thousand leagues in the other direction, perhaps it’s a distraction,” Zedd suggested.

Richard reached out to squeeze Kahlan’s hand. “We’ll find Rahl and stop him, and then we’ll take care of what’s left of the Dragon Corp.”

Kahlan offered the Seeker a weak smile and took her hand back, “All I want to find right now is an inn, so we can figure out our next move.” She pushed herself to stand, “Thank you Captain.”

“Actually Mother Confessor there is another matter, if you would, while you are in Brennidon.” He extended his hand, beseeching her to sit again.

She returned to her chair and folded her hands before her. “And how can I be of service to you Captain?”

“There is a man here, who has been tried, found guilty and sentenced to death for some very heinous crimes.”

“If he has been tried by a council of his peers, the law says you do not need a Confessor.”

“That’s the thing Mother Confessor,” Captain Freedman cleared his throat, “he has requested to be confessed.”

Kahlan’s stomach dropped.

“Wait, people actually _ask_ to be Confessed?” It was the first thing Cara had said since they had entered the town.

Kahlan turned in her chair to address her, pushing back the cold memory of when Cara had, in fact, done just that. “Any person who has been sentenced to death may request a Confessor if they wish to clear their name. But no guilty man would do such a thing because it would only prove them guilty. Even many innocent men wouldn’t because they fear death less than confession. I have only ever had to do it once, for a man who was accused of unspeakable things that he refused to die being thought guilty of. No guilty man would ask this,” she stated again more quietly. Kahlan stared into the Mord-Sith’s green eyes while she centred herself, then returned her gaze to the soldier across the table, “Are you sure you have the right man?”

“Yes Mother Confessor,” he said solemnly, “we believe he is trying to take advantage of the unavailability of Confessors. Either to buy time for escape or plead another sentence on a technicality.” He shook his head, “I don’t know, but it is fortunate you have passed through when you have. I know the council was struggling on what to do with him.”

Yeah, real fortunate, she thought. 

“Okay,” she let out a sigh, “I promise I will see to this matter before I leave Brennidon.”

“Thank you Mother Confessor,” he bowed his head slightly. “As for your lodgings, I am sure the head councilman would be honoured to open up his home to you.”

Kahlan fought the grimace from showing on her face. The last thing she wanted was to have to sit through a bunch of pomp and circumstance. They needed to strategize their next move, not be gossip fodder for the town council. “Thank you Captain Freedman, but an Inn will be fine.”

“Well, the Queen’s Pony has secure rooms on reserve for passing dignitaries,” he suggested, “and they would allow us to help ensure your safety while in town.”

“Oh the Queen’s Pony has the most delectable braised lamb,” Zedd drooled out before Kahlan could respond. She just shook her head.

“Thank you Captain, that would be appreciated.”

\-------------

“Why can’t we get this kind of treatment in every town?” Cara asked with a smirk as she joined them at the table. 

“Because we are not on official Confessor business in every town,” Zedd replied while eying a plate of mutton the serving girl was carrying across the tavern.

“What? Saving the world isn’t official enough?”

Kahlan smiled at the Mord-Sith’s insistence. Which of course earned her a scowl. But she was having trouble not smiling at everything Cara was doing since having to watch her go through that painful trance. Watching Cara incoherent and tormented had twisted at her, making her feel helpless and lost. Now seeing Cara be so unabashedly Cara felt solid. Like home.

Cara hadn’t spoken much about the bond since she first woke, and Kahlan didn’t really expect she would. But she was proud of her for forging her own path. For freeing herself from the will of others. After everything Cara had been through, she deserved her own life and so much more.

“The rooms _are_ lovely,” Kahlan agreed. And they were. An entire wing of the inn was secured off with soldiers. They each had their own room for the first time since she could remember. The beds were as soft as her own back in Aydindril. It was a level of luxury she had once been accustom too, but now hardly remembered. 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a bed so soft,” the Seeker added with a meaningful look at Kahlan, “I think I could get used to it.”

Kahlan forced a tight-lipped smile, then suggested they first have dinner, then discuss their next move. Zedd was already waving the serving girl over before she finished her sentence.

\--------------

After a brief indulgence of the Seeker’s grand scheme to traverse the boundary to the Old World, it was quickly decided that there was no point wasting resources on something that, even if they somehow managed to do the impossible and get through the boundary, they didn’t know for sure Rahl went through it, or where to start searching for him in a place nobody has seen in more than a millennia.

The best course of action was to find out what Rahl was doing, so they could hope to prevent it, or at least get a head start on counter acting whatever was to come after. And that meant tracking down any hint of the Prophecy and what it might mean. 

“So its agreed then,” Zedd said, “we will have to split up.”

“Right,” Richard concurred, “Kahlan and I can go to the Palace of the Profits, and Cara can accompany you to Aydindril to search the Keep.”

Kahlan’s stomach clenched both at Richard’s poor planning, and the thinly vailed attempt to get them alone together. Fortunately, Zedd spoke up before she had to.

“Richard, my boy, it would be more prudent for you to take Cara with you. If the Sisters of the Light try to pull anything, she would be able to reflect their magic. And,” he continued, “the Mother Confessor has been away from Aydindril a long time. If some of us are going there, she should be one of them.”

“When we were in Portree, I sent word to Dennee requesting she travel to Aydindril since my return was delayed yet again. But it would be beneficial if I were able to make it back to see to some matters in person,” Kahlan agreed.

“Of course,” Richard pushed his hands towards hers with a small smile, “your people need you.”

“I want to go to the People’s Palace.” Three sets of eyes turned towards the Mord-Sith.

“Cara,” the Seeker admonished, “I don’t know how many times I’ve told you…”

The Mord-Sith slapped her hand on the table. “ _This_ ,” she closed her eyes and took a calming breath, “this is not about you Richard. I am well aware of what you will not do. But whatever Darken Rahl is up to, wherever he has run off to, he got _his_ information from the library in the People’s Palace. We are talking about running around chasing phantoms of information when the source is right there,” she pointed out the window, “a few hundred leagues to the north east.”

Kahlan had to admit that made some sense.

“That very well may be my dear,” Zedd agreed, “but it would be incredibly dangerous, and near impossible to get into the library, let alone find any useful information in the thousands of books and scrolls before we were found.”

“I can do it,” Cara said confidently.

Richard let out a small laugh of disbelief. “How? You going to just walk up to the front gates of the People’s Palace and ask nicely?”

“Probably,” the Confessor muttered to herself, remembering the temple outside of Portree. _Or maybe not to herself_ , as two confused sets of eyes, and one pair heavily veiled with amusement, were staring at her. 

The Seeker tore his confused gaze from the Confessor, back to the Mord-Sith, and shook his head, “I’m sorry Cara, its too dangerous. We stick to the plan.”

“And I am sorry Richard, but I am not asking for your permission.” 

Had Kahlan been looking at the Seeker she would have seen absolute disbelief frozen on his face. But she wasn’t looking at the Seeker. She was lost in the unyielding gaze of one very determined Mord-Sith, who’s eyes had come to lock on her own.

“I can do this.”

The task seemed dangerously impossible, but Kahlan found she could not discourage the Mord-Sith’s newfound independence. She finally forced out a single nod of agreement.

The silence stretched a few more moments before the Seeker spoke again, somewhat petulantly, “so what? I’m supposed to go with Cara now?”

Cara just took a sip of her ale, like her part of the conversation was over. 

“No,” Zedd said, “we should check as many avenues as possible. Go to the Palace of the Prophets as planned.”

“I’m sure we could get some soldiers from the garrison to accompany you Richard,” Kahlan offered.

“And if the Sisters of the Light truly believe you are to save us from this new evil, I doubt they will try to hold you there, like they did the last time,” Zedd added.

“And what about Cara,” Richard asked.

“No. It would be less conspicuous if I travel alone.”

“Okay,” Zedd clapped happily before another awkward silence could settle in. “I will visit the shops in the morning and find enough journey books so we can all keep in contact. Cara and Richard can head out as early as tomorrow, and Kahlan and I will return to Aydindril as soon as her business is done here.”

Zedd looked content as he waved the serving girl back over to order another leg of lamb. Richard looked unhappy and he gulped back his ale. Cara looked satisfied as she drank hers. Kahlan felt… unsettled, and she wasn’t sure exactly why.

\--------------

Kahlan met with the town council the next morning, and it was hastily arranged that she would hear a summary of the hearing against the man known as Jarrad Fallows that afternoon. Then the man would be given an opportunity to speak on his own behalf, and the Mother Confessor would pass her judgement. 

After that, she went by the garrison to speak with Captain Freedman to ask for a couple men to accompany the Seeker on his journey, to which he eagerly agreed, and found no lack of volunteers. She was almost back to the inn when Cara materialized from between two buildings with a bundle tucked under her arm. She eyes the two guards that had been escorting the Confessor around Brennidon, then fell in step beside Kahlan. “Did you encounter any problems Confessor?”

Kahlan smiled at the reflexive check on her wellbeing. “No, everything is arranged. Hopefully Zedd and I can be back on the road by tomorrow morning.”

The Mord-Sith hummed an acknowledgement. Kahlan suddenly felt a little melancholy. It had been several moons since she had been separated from the ever-steady Mord-Sith. Maybe the Valley of Creation? And _that_ had gone so well. She would miss Cara, but knew speaking the sentiment would not be welcome. Instead, Kahlan reached out and pinched the corner of the Mord-Sith’s bundle, “what’s that?”

Cara smirked but before she could offer an explanation, they had reached the Queen’s Pony, where Zedd and Richard were waiting out front. Zedd excitedly waved his newly purchased journey books in the air. The Seeker greeted Kahlan with a smile, and Cara with a nod. “What do you got there Cara?” the Seeker asked.

“Female items,” she answered curtly.

The Seeker’s eyes went wide, Zedd coughed, “Well,” the wizard deflected and turned to Kahlan, “was Captain Freedman able to grant our request?”

“Yes,” she replied, “three soldiers are preparing their things now. Richard just needs to stop by the garrison on his way out of town to meet them.”

“I suppose we have everything we need to get you two back on the road then.” Zedd reached out and handed both Cara and Richard a journey book. “I was only able to find two pairs, so you each take one, and I will hold the pair to both.”

Cara nodded. Richard sighed, “are we sure we shouldn’t stick together?” he tried one last time. “It seems awfully risky splitting up. What if that is what Rahl is after, to distract us? Divide and conquer. It would explain Toth'Rang. If Shota is right, and it will take a merging of powers to defeat him, how are we going to do that when we are scattered all over the map?”

“It is a risk my boy,” Zedd agreed, “but it is also a risk to stay together. We have very little to go on. We need more information as quickly as we can get it. Then we can reunite and deal with Rahl.”

“And if we don’t all make it back alive because we separated and find ourselves outmatched?”

Kahlan noticed the Seeker’s slight gesture towards the Mord-Sith. She was sure Cara had seen it as well, but the Mord-Sith said nothing. Just stood there looking calm, like she wasn’t about to embark on the riskiest path of them all. Like she wasn’t walking into the heart of Darken Rahl’s stronghold, alone, to search for a needle in a haystack. 

But Cara wasn’t stupid. Even if she could dress the part, she had to know returning into the lion’s den as an exile was borderline suicidal. Yet Cara seemed so sure. So confident. And suddenly every instinct in Kahlan was screaming at her to trust the Mord-Sith’s inclination. 

_“But if anyone would have an idea about this, it would be Berdine.”_ Kahlan remembered the words of the blonde Mord-Sith from the temple. No doubt the same Berdine that saved Cara in the desert. This long shot that was the People’s Palace suddenly seemed a lot more possible. In fact, it suddenly seemed their best chance. “I’m going with Cara,” she announced before the thought finished forming.

“What?” Richard was aghast, “Kahlan, that’s not what I meant!”

Kahlan shook her head, “no, Cara is right. Going after the information Rahl is working with is our best chance.” Her eyes met the Mord-Sith who’s face was still calm, but the corner of her eyes glinted with something else. Kahlan suddenly faltered feeling foolish for forcing herself. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

“Last I checked the Mother Confessor was above needing the permission of anyone,” she said with a slight head tilt and smirk. Kahlan smiled and took that as a yes.

“What about Aydindril,” Richard protested. “I thought it was important to get back.

“It is,” Kahlan said, “but this is more important. And once Zedd reaches Aydindril I can communicate with Dennee through the journey book if she needs my support.”

“Then maybe I should come to D’hara too.”

Kahlan saw the strain in the Mord-Sith’s face at the Seeker’s remark. Could feel the thoughts going through her head. Instead she only said, “fewer people would be easier to get around unnoticed.”

“And looking into the Prophecy is important too,” Zedd said with a hand on his grandson’s shoulder.

“Fine,” the Seeker finally agreed, not looking fine at all. “I’ll go get my bag and my horse. Kahlan,” he added hopefully, “will you walk with me to the garrison?”

“Of course,” she said quietly.

\---------------

By the time Kahlan got back to her room that evening, she was exhausted. Physically and mentally. Saying goodbye to Richard was somewhat trying. He was as morose as all their previous departures, and despite the words that passed between them a few days earlier, still appeared to expect a touchy farewell. Kahlan instead offered him a chaste kiss on the cheek and implored him to think about what he really wanted from his future while they were apart. He mumbled some promise of becoming what she needed and departed with a sad smile.

At least seeing the wizard off was easier. Although he did encourage her to reconsider her decision to follow Cara to D’hara, citing its dangers and lack of chance for success. But the Confessor could not be swayed.

She then took a small lunch before Cara accompanied her to the council chambers to hear the Fallows case. She tried to assure the Mord-Sith she need not come sit through the proceedings, but Cara would hear none of it, and in the end, Kahlan was glad to have her there.

Captain Freedman’s assessment that Fallows was trying to use the lack of Confessors as a means to get out of his sentence became glaringly obvious, if not by the pile of evidence the council had presented her with, then by the sheer ugliness that radiated from his entire being from the moment Kahlan had looked into his eyes.

It was also obvious he knew his fate was sealed.

But though his eyes said otherwise he verbally proclaimed his innocence until the moment Kahlan wrapped her hand around his throat and the full extent of his vile deeds were unleashed in between a hail of “I love you” and “please let me serve you mistress.” Not only were several more victims admitted to, but the acts Fallows had performed on both their live and dead bodies made Kahlan want to vomit on the council hall floor.

Even with all her experience and Confessor’s training, she was finding it difficult to keep her emotions in check. Not only to have to listen to such twisted perversion, but to have this evil man now connected to herself in such an intimate way. Fallows was joyfully admitting these repugnant acts with all the love and devotion in the world flowing at her from his eyes.

Just when Kahlan felt the last crack and thought her mask would shatter, thought she might flee from the room or lash out or Creator knew what, she caught the eye of the stolid Mord-Sith standing at the back of the room. Kahlan couldn’t read a Mord-Sith. Even after all this time, couldn’t really read Cara. Knew her, yes, read her no. But in that moment, she found nothing but empathy and strength in those sea green eyes. She found steadiness and latched onto it. Cara let it out, and she breathed it in.

Kahlan managed to reclaim her calm and see her duty through. She sentenced the man to meet the Keeper, who would hopefully delve out a more fitting punishment than he was getting today, then rose and excused herself. She didn’t have to look back to know the Mord-Sith was behind her. And both the silence on the walk back to the inn, and the brief touch at the small of her back on the way through the door, were appreciated more than she could ever say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a funny chapter because it was probably the longest I've written but very little actually happened. Hopefully it was till enjoyable! Until next time, thank you for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I generally suck at spelling and grammar, but I apologize if this is extra bad.   
> I wrote half this chapter weeks ago, while drinking one evening, and it turns out I wrote it in a completely different tense than the rest of the story. So I had to go back through it and change half the damn lines. I have read and reread it twenty two times, trying to make sure I caught it all and frankly its lost all meaning and I know longer care. Its going up now. Hopefully I caught it all.

Cara gave a small nod of approval to the guards standing at the top of the stairs, balancing her load as she passed. While in Aydindril, she is certain a small army protects the Mother Confessor while she sleeps, but these smaller towns they pass through seem to offer little more than a rusty lock and key in exchange for the services of the Confessor and the Seeker. As if the danger to their station is somehow diminished because they’re in some backwater hole. It was nice, for a change, to see the citizens of a town taking the protection of their leader seriously.

And after a day like today, she knew Kahlan needed that peace of mind. Needed to be able to shut the outside world away for a few marks and come back to herself. So, after the hearing she walked the Confessor back to the inn where, fortunately in establishments such as these, a hot bath always lay ready for the high end cliental. When Kahlan was safely soaking in the water, Cara snuck away to ensure the sentence of the one responsible for all of this had been carried out, then set about finding dinner. She didn’t want to leave the Confessor alone too long, lest respite turn into a morose introspective.

She reached the Mother Confessor’s room, hands full, carrying a tray of food in one hand, and a bottle and heavy wooden case in the other, then glared at the door as if that alone could open it. She _could_ knock. But Cara Mason would not be bested by a door. Instead she pinched the bottle awkwardly under her opposite arm, while bending it back to keep the food from sliding onto the floor, then managed to turn the knob with her two newly freed fingers.

Kahlan was sitting on a long cushioned bench in front of the window. Her head turned quickly towards the intrusion but then her eyes softened, and a small smile settled on her face. “You know I could have helped.”

“No, absolutely not. You are not leaving this room again tonight.”

Kahlan arched an eyebrow at the order but the smile still played on her lips. 

Cara sighed as she relieved herself of her load. “If you go back out there you will be dragged into the next bit of town drama.” She waved a hand in the air before retrieving the food tray and placing it in front of the Confessor on the bench, “and we will starve to death before you get away again.”

“Complaining about the late mealtime?” Kahlan observed as she rolled some meat and vegetables into a flatbread, “that’s unbefitting of a Mord-Sith, Cara.” Cara’s gaze narrowed as Kahlan looked up at her with innocent eyes, “but I suppose its understandable if the rigours of a Confess…”

Green eyes flash, “I am not…” Cara bit off her comment and frowned. She had allowed herself to be baited. 

Kahlan, for her part, burst into what could only be described as a giggle.

Normally a person making a joke at the Mord Sith’s expense, _and giggling,_ would be met with an Agiel to their so-called funny bone, but instead, Cara felt almost relieved. After today, Kahlan laughing was a welcome sound and it lightened her to hear it.

Cara’s frown deepened against her own thought, which in turn brought on another rush of giggling from the Confessor. Glaring, the Mord-Sith snatched a roasted pepper off the tray, before turning back to retrieve the case and bottle she left on a small table by the door.

Kahlan’s eyes followed curiously as she returned to sit across the bench. Cara waited silently, taking a piece of cheese off the platter, forcing the Confessor to ask.

“What’s that?” she finally did.

“Distraction,” the blonde smirked, “since we cannot go out and it is still early.” She pushed forward the bottle, which was now apparent to be wine.

Kahlan smiled indulgently, “Cara you know I can’t drink.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you can.” She picked up the bottle and mimed drinking from it.

Rolling her eyes, Kahlan pushed both the Mord-Sith’s arm and bottle down to the bench, “you know that’s not what I meant. I could lose control.”

It was now Cara’s turn to roll her eyes. “I hardly think a glass or two of wine will send you into the Con Dar Confessor.” The brunette opened her mouth, but Cara cut her off, “and after today you deserve to unwind.”

The ghost of burden flashed across the Confessor’s eyes and was gone. “It would be unbecoming of the Mother Confessor to be seen muddled in her duties,” she argued.

Cara scoffed and gestured around, “seen by who?” A roguish smirk slowly grew across her face as she leaned forward, “you think I’m going to run to the town gossip when the Mother Confessor strips naked and passes out on the floor?”

The blonde smiled inwardly at the predictable pink hue that pulled across the Confessor’s cheeks and her eyes fell away, “I would never!”

“Then what are you worried about?” she challenged back, annunciating slowly. 

Kahlan’s eyes returned and stared a long moment, but then she side stepped the question and asked another. “What’s in the case?”

Cara let it slide for now. She set the bottle aside and brought forward the wooden box, running her hand across the top with an impish grin. “One of my favourite _distractions_ when I was still with my sisters.” The blonde locked eyes with the Confessor and enjoyed every minute emotion that played across her face as her mind considered the possibilities, ending with, of course, a furious blush.

“Cara…”

“It was hard to find in a town like this.” Cara spun the box around and unclasped the buckles holding it shut. Hooking a provocative eyebrow, she added, “but I think if you’re open, you’ll quite enjoy it.”

Kahlan’s eyes were near panic as the Mord-Sith raised the lid. When Cara looked down, Kahlan’s eyes followed. There was a moment of silence, then an audible breath. “ _Chess_?” she practically wined out.

Cara had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing, using all her training to keep her face serious, “of course, what else would it be?”

“I don’t know, some sort of magical…” the brunette sputtered at her own words, eyes going wide. Her face was now easily as red as Cara’s leathers, and Cara could not hold it in any longer. She burst out into a hearty laughter.

“I will give you every silver I have to finish that sentence Confessor.”

Kahlan shook her head and pursed her lips as she reached across the bench to punch Cara in the arm. “I hate you.” 

The Mord Sith clasped her heart in mock indignation. “The Mother Confessor, hate? How unbecoming.”

Cara was treated to a heated glare, but Kahlan could not stop the corner of her mouth from twitching as she once again declared, “I really hate you.”

Cara found she could do nothing but smile in return. “So can you play?”

\------

Twenty minutes later Kahlan, now wearing a shift, was sitting cross-legged on the bed, separating game pieces as she eyed Cara suspiciously across the room. Cara of course, ignoring all of Kahlan’s earlier protests, was pouring two glasses of wine. 

When Cara returned to the bed and offered a glass to the Confessor she was met with a blank stare. Not wanting to push when Kahlan finally seemed to be relaxing, Cara shrugged at the rejection and placed the second glass on the night stand, with an “it’s there when you change your mind,” before crawling on the bed knees first and setting up her pieces. 

It was a quality set. A family heirloom according to the councilman who so generously lent it to her in the name of entertaining the Mother Confessor and not getting Agieled in the groin. Cara smirked at the memory as she admired the quality of the carving.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” Kahlan tucked a hair behind her ear. Cara quirked an eyebrow. “But I’m having a hard time picturing a temple full of Mord-Sith sitting around playing chess.”

Cara took a long sip of wine, “and what _do_ you picture us sitting around doing?”

Despite the reactionary blush, Cara was almost proud of the way Kahlan stared her down this time, refusing to back away at the innuendo, so she let her off the hook. “It wasn’t widespread in its popularity. But we were encouraged to partake in activities to strengthen our strategic thinking.” Cara picked up the King and set it on the board, noting its resemblance to the Seeker with its tiny Sword of Truth. The bishops had long flowing beards and robes you would imagine on any Wizard not named Zedd. “The game was a favourite of my Sister Berdine,” she said, mouth curling ever so slightly, “and whenever I passed through the People’s Palace where she was stationed, we would try to sit down for a game.” Cara took another sip of her wine and looked up to find Kahlan absolutely beaming at her like she just spilled the secrets of creation.

“What?”

“She was your friend.”

Cara let out a huff, trying to figure out how she had been tricked into talking about feelings. She narrowed her eyes at her wine then the Confessor. “She was a good Mord-Sith.”

“She helped you in the desert.” 

Cara hummed, not particularly wanting to think about that story again, or why she had decided to share it with Kahlan. 

“You believe she will help us when we get to D’hara.” It wasn’t really a question.

“Yes,” she confirmed and was thankful when Kahlan didn’t ask her to elaborate on how or why. Though she supposed Kahlan had guessed at least some of the why. Which only made it her own damn fault when she felt more words pouring out of her treacherous mouth. “We were taken around the same time. Often trained together as girls.” Cara placed her final piece on the board, the Queen, or in this case with the unmistakable cut of the dress, the Mother Confessor, as she waved the small figure at Kahlan, and received a small smile of recognition back in return. “Berdine was always a little… odd, for a Mord-Sith. No mistake, she is ruthless when called upon, but,” she gestured to the brunette to make her first move, “she was always more interested in books than breakings.”

“Books?” Kahlan asked as she reached for a piece only to change her mind and push another forward.

“Yes, books.” Cara surveyed the board before making her first move. “She is particularly skilled in High D’haran. Many of the others shunned or mocked her for the time she spent at study, but she was able to leverage her abilities into a position researching in the Great Library for the Lord Rahl.” The blonde loosed a satisfied smile, “in a way she became the most favoured, and hence highest ranking of us all. Now nobody dares mock her.” Cara’s smile faded a little before adding, “at least not the last time I saw her.” 

“You miss her,” Kahlan said quietly. 

Cara just gestured at the board, “its your move.”

Kahlan gave a small smile indicating she understood she’d pushed the topic as far as its going to go, then pushed forward another pawn.

Cara followed the move with a frown. Whatever she decided to do next, she would be losing an important piece, and by the smirk now consuming Kahlan’s face, she knew it as well. 

“Your move,” the Confessor said in unnecessary reminder.

Cara swore under her breath for letting herself get backed in a corner so soon. “This board is obviously cursed.”

“Cursed?” Kahlan laughed

“Yes cursed! We have wizards and Seekers, and Confessors,” she gestured around the board, “but where are the Mord-Sith?”

Kahlan’s face settled into a look of calm confusion as she pointed down, “What are you talking about, I just moved one.”

Cara’s eyes followed to the recently moved pawn and her jaw dropped in indignation. But when her eyes darted back up, the acerbic comeback died on her tongue as she took in the victorious smile on the Confessor’s face. Her grin seemed to stretch right into her sky-blue eyes. Maybe a little self deprecation was worth it if it could be the cause of that look. Again, Cara found herself frowning at her own reflections, refusing to think about what they mean. 

Fortunately, when the Confessor noticed the disgruntled look on her face, she took it for the usual.

“Oh, come now Cara, you know I’m only kidding,” her features turning mischievous, “but if you need some tips, I’m happy to help.”

Cara took another sip of wine and she surveyed the board for a way out, rocking a rook under her index finger, but not yet moving it. “You are far to overconfident for so early in the game Confessor.”

Kahlan’s eyes trailed up from the rook to Cara. She looked far too pleased with herself. “Well if you make _that_ move, not so early.”

The rocking stopped, but she didn’t move her finger from the piece. “Well then Miss Confidence, what do you say we raise the stakes?”

“Like a wager?”

“Not exactly.”

Kahlan tilted her head suspiciously. “Like _what_ exactly?”

Cara glanced to the bedside table behind her, where Kahlan’s declined glass of wine still sat untouched. “Simple. You lose a piece, you take a drink.” Cara reach back for the glass, “the bigger the piece, the bigger the drink.”

“That’s not a good idea Cara.”

“Why, you afraid of losing?”

Kahlan waved at the board, “obviously not.”

Cara glanced at the ceiling as if in deep thought, still holding both her and Kahlan’s glasses in her hands, swirling her own. “Well, we could always gamble the Mord-Sith way.”

“What’s that, we punch each other in the face?”

Cara barked out a laugh before a sultry grin consumed her features. “Lose a piece on the board,” she gave her eyebrows a wag, “lose a piece of clothing.”

Kahlan opened her mouth but no words came out. Cara couldn’t help but enjoy the way the Confessor’s eyes unwittingly dropped to her cleavage for a split second before flushing and running a hand over her face. Kahlan held out her hand, “just give me the wine.”

Cara managed to hold back her victorious smirk until after she passed her now free hand over the rook to a bishop, and Kahlan’s face fell. 

\-------------

A game and a half later and Cara had a more than slightly inebriated Confessor on her hands. The first game was quite competitive with Kahlan very narrowly taking victory. But not before working through a glass of wine. By the second game it was obvious how inexperienced the Mother Confessor was at holding her drink, and Cara was now slowly decimating Kahlan’s entire board, twice ignoring the obvious path to check mate, in a bid to make Kahlan drink as much as possible. It was becoming so easy Cara might even feel guilty about it if she wasn’t having so much fun.

The Confessor was staring down the game board with an intently furrowed brow that one might call adorable if one used such language. 

Finally, Kahlan picked up her King-slash-Seeker like she was going to make a move, then abruptly held it up to inspect it. Cara smirked as the Confessor squinted at it and turned it around in her fingers. “Not very impressive, is he?”

“Well he is two inches tall.”

Kahlan nodded seriously then placed the chess piece back on the board in a completely different place than she had taken it, then moved a bishop straight ahead three places instead of diagonally to take a knight.

Cara let the error slide, mostly because she wanted to take a drink. Then she watched as the Confessor took a drink.

“Alright Mother Confessor, I think its time to call it a night. I don’t want you blaming your impending loss on your condition.”

Kahlan frowned and started methodically patting herself up and down. “What condition? I am very fit you know.”

“You’re also drunk.” Cara collapsed the board back in on itself, folding the pieces up inside and clasping it shut.

“I’m the Mother Confessor, I don’t get drunk,” she declared with a crooked smile.

“Of course not,” the blond pacified, pulling back the blankets and waving an encouraging hand for Kahlan to crawl in. “Just… muddled.”

The Brunette frowned at that, “you easily drank twice as much as me. Why aren’t you drunk?”

Cara continued to hold the blanket back, but leaned closer to the Confessor with a smirk. “Because I have far more experience, Confessor.”

“You certainly do,” Kahlan whispered almost reverently, suddenly staring deep into Cara’s eyes as if hypnotized. A shiver sparked its way down Cara’s spine at the unexpectedly charged moment, but before she could even think to contemplate on it, the Confessor turned around, and was intently focused on arranging the over abundance of pillows on the bed into a giant mound.

Finally she turned back and flopped into the middle, looking like she just saved the world from the Keeper all over again. 

Cara rolled her eyes, “you done?”

Kahlan nodded proudly.

“Well,” Cara said, tossing the blanket over the Confessors head, “thank you for the game. Sleep well.”

“Wait!” Kahlan thrashed to extricate herself from under the quilt. “Where are you going?”

Cara began blowing out the candles beside the bed. “To my bed. We actually have our own for once, I intend to strip off my leathers and take full advantage.”

“But…” Kahlan’s voice was suddenly very small, “ _stay_.”

Cara took in the beseeching Confessor, already feeling her resolve crumbling. “You’re right, drinking was a bad idea.”

“Cara, please.” Kahlan chewed her lip and looked away, “I don’t want to be alone.” 

With an eyeroll at her inability to just walk out the door, Kahlan was a grown damn woman for Creators sakes, Cara crawled back onto the bed, and sat beside the mopey, tipsy Confessor. 

Kahlan’s head immediately found her shoulder. 

After a few moments of silence, she took a deep breath and forced herself to ask, “Are you okay?

“Ya. No... ya.” When Kahlan spoke again it was barely a whisper. “I’m going to have to take a mate like that.”

She knew Kahlan was referring to the sicko she had confessed earlier that day, but that only baffled the Mord-Sith. “Why?”

“Because it’s my duty.”

“No,” Cara argued, “your duty is to make little Confessors. Not sleep with criminals.” 

Cara could feel the Confessor’s head shaking against her, “I couldn’t destroy a decent person just for, for that.”

“I know Kahlan.” Cara chose not to examine how her arm had wrapped itself around the Confessor’s back, or how the Confessor had slid further down into her body and was now tucked into her ribs. “Those aren’t your only options.”

Kahlan stiffened, “I told you, I can’t with Richard. Even without Shota’s prophecy. Richard,” she let out a long breath, “Richard is not the one.”

Cara added the spreading warmth in her chest to the growing list of things not to examine. 

“I’m not talking about Richard,” she said, as the Confessor quietly toyed with the seams on her leathers. “Set aside for a moment that half the housewives in the Midlands can offer the very sad proof a child can be made without being brought to release,” Kahlan choked below her, but she continued, “and that a little human ingenuity couldn’t figure out a way to transport a man’s seed into a woman without him even touching her.” Kahlan’s grip tightened on her side. “But we live in a world were magic can return dead people to life and tear a rift to the underworld,” she was almost angry now in the face of the lie Kahlan had been forced to live. “Surely somewhere out there exists the power for a woman to become pregnant without being forced into some kind of state sponsored violation.”

Cara could feel Kahlan jerk at her choice of phrase, but she was quiet a long time. Cara knew she was trying to reconcile her words with everything a Confessor was trained to believe. “But we are taug…

“Kahlan,” she encouraged quietly, “you are the Mother Confessor and leader of all the Midlands. You need only answer to yourself, not a bunch of thousand-year-dead Wizards with mother issues.” 

That was followed by another long stretch of silence from the Confessor. Cara was content to sit quietly, having already been down this road of painful revelation brought on from the truths of her own past.

“Why would they care if…”

“Because by controlling that part of you, they maintain their control over you,” Cara said, already anticipating the question. “Men fear nothing more than a woman who is secure in her own power. The Rahls understand this. That is why they created the Mord-Sith. That is what makes us the ultimate weapon.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Kahlan peaked up at her, eyes flickering for focus in the dimly lit room. “If that’s true, why would a man create the thing that men fear most?”

“That is why he first breaks us to his will. Just as the wizards of old broke Confessors of the control over their own lives and taught them to fear their power.”

Kahlan peered at her a few seconds longer then returned to burying her head into the Mord-Sith side. Cara couldn’t help but wonder how she had become the Mother Confessor’s pillow on a bed that had no lack of them. Fortunately, coming down from the alcohol, Kahlan probably couldn’t stay awake much longer. 

That theory was validated the next time the Confessor spoke and the sleep was heavy in her voice. “You really think Berdine can help us?”

It didn’t slip Cara’s attention that Kahlan had ask _can_ and not _will_. “Whatever Rahl is doing, he got the idea from her. He has had Berdine buried away in the library for years looking for ways to acquire more power. You really think that idiot figured out the power of Orden all on his own?”

Cara felt, more than heard, Kahlan’s chuckle vibrate through her body, then her breathing evened out again. 

“Do you love her?”

“ _What_?” Cara sputtered.

“Berdine. She’s important to you.”

“She was someone I could trust in a life that offered very little,” Cara admitted, all be it flatly.

“So you _are_ friends?” Kahlan asked again softly.

Cara pinched her nose with her free hand and wondered if she could reach the last of the wine. “Mord-Sith don’t have friends.”

“I’m your friend.”

“Go to sleep Kahlan.” 

Apparently drunk Confessors were not good at letting things go and fingers jabbed harshly into her ribs, “ _Right_?”

Cara heaved out a long sigh of resignation. “I would hardly be letting you cling to me like I’m some sort of blankie if you were not Confessor.”

Again Cara felt Kahlan’s laughter reverberate through her, then an arm tightened around the Mord-Sith’s waist. She thought she had finally been granted peace when the Confessor’s head popped up abruptly. “Wait, _blankie?_ Did little Cara Mason have a blankie?”

“No.” She tried to push the Confessor’s head back down.

“You did!”

“That’s it!” Cara twisted Kahlan off her and pushed her into the mound of pillows. “Go to sleep Confessor.”

“Okay, okay,” Kahlan laughed, reaching out to grab the Mord-Sith’s arm and pull her back into the bed. 

Cara once again rolled her eyes at her own lack of push back. She sat back against the headboard and reluctantly began to discern the long list of truths she could no longer ignore, while she waited for Kahlan to drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter and then shook my head at myself when I realized I had essentially written a sleep over between the Mother Confessor and a Mord-Sith. It is almost ridiculous but hopefully worth some laughs.
> 
> Also I only have a vague idea on how to play chess, so please don't hate on me if things I said make no sense. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

Kahlan’s eyes fluttered against the bright light of day breaking through the partially opened curtains and rolled over to bury her head in the pillows. She tried to swallow only to be met with an acrid taste and a desert dry mouth. Smacking her mouth in a bid to find moisture she rolled back onto her back.

“Creator,” she mumbled with an arm across her face. 

She forced her eyes open to a squint and took note that Cara was no longer in the bed beside her. She had probably snuck off as soon as Kahlan had passed out. She let out a long groan. She couldn’t have had more than three glasses of wine. How Cara managed to routinely pack away pint after pint then jump out of bed at first light the next day was beyond her.

She was never drinking again.

Kahlan thought about how relaxed and comfortable the Mord-Sith had been last night when they were playing chess and changed her mind. Maybe she could indulge again at some point in the future if it meant she could see Cara at ease like that. A sharp wave of pain rolled through the Confessor’s head. “ _Way in the future_ ,” she murmured to herself. 

She managed to work herself to a sit, ready to glare at the wine glass on the side table, but instead found a cup of water and a mug of something greenish looking, with a note that had “DRINK” scrawled in giant block letters propped in between them. 

Kahlan smiled to herself as she grasped the cup of water and gulped it down greedily. She shouldn’t be surprised really. Somewhere a long the way the Mord-Sith had become extremely in tune with Kahlan’s moods and her needs. Even more so than Richard had been after all those months on the road together. Perhaps it was something in the Mord-Sith training that made her so perceptive to the people around her. The only surprising thing now, was not that she noticed, but that she seemed to make it her business to see they were tended to. 

She was sure if Cara could hear her thoughts right now, she’d be brandishing an Agiel in her face, monologuing about duty and keeping them all from killing themselves. But truth was truth. The Mord-Sith had gone out of her way the previous evening to help Kahlan put _her_ duty from her mind. She was sure Cara would have preferred to spend the rare night in a large town _on the town_ , but instead she chose to stay with Kahlan so she wouldn’t sit alone and ruminate on the day. 

Kahlan was hit with the sudden image of clinging to Cara in the bed and could feel the heat spread across her cheeks. They had certainly come a long way from the Drowning Cave if Cara was going to tolerate that from her. What an upside-down world it was, where a Mord-Sith could be a trusted friend to a Confessor. 

Kahlan put the water glass back on the table and took the mug with the green mixture. She took a sniff and grimaced. “Maybe not friends after all,” she eyeballed the sludge. She definitely picked up a hint of garlic, and maybe mint, amongst whatever else was crushed up in the bitter smelling mix. 

A knock at the door saved her. She put the suspect tincture back onto the nightstand and extricated herself from the bed, pausing briefly to fend off a pinching feeling in her skull, before moving to answer it. 

“Cara, I don’t know what you’re trying…” her sentence faded away at the sight of a short auburn-haired girl, holding a serving tray with a bowed head. “Oh, sorry.”

“Excuse me Mother Confessor,” the short woman bowed even lower, “Mistress Cara asked me to bring you your breakfast. And I have your dress,” she indicated with her head at the bundle under her arm.

Kahlan glanced down the hall to Cara’s room. The door was open and another maid was bringing out the bed linens. “And do you happen to know where she is?” Kahlan asked as she took the tray and placed it on the table inside the door, before also taking her freshly washed Confessor’s dress.

“Yes, Mother Confessor. She asked me to tell you she was going to stop by the garrison to check the reports, and would meet you out front with the horses in a mark.”

“Thank you.” Cara must be in a hurry to get back on the road. She grimaced. The thought of bouncing around on a horse right now was not enticing.

The woman bowed again. “Is there anything else I can do for you Mother Confessor?”

“Yes actually,” Kahlan smiled politely, “hang on a moment.” She disappeared back into the room to retrieve a small envelope she had left on the bench by the window. After yesterday, she wanted to ensure nobody else tried to loophole their way out of their sentence by the lack of Confessors. So, she had written to her sister and the Midland’s Council, explaining what happened, and instructing that a decree be sent out that any persons requesting a Confessor in the future, must be brought to Aydindril to see it through.

She left her dress on the bench and took the letter back to the waiting girl, asking she have it be sent off with the next messenger to Aydindril. The girl smiled her ascent and dismissed herself, then Kahlan brought her tray of food back over to the bed, taking a small bite of melon as she set it down. She looked at the fried potatoes and sausage on her plate and her stomached roiled. Her head was killing her. She once again eyed the mug with the green mixture. She was pretty sure that Cara wouldn’t try to kill her. She reluctantly reached out for it. 

It was probably a bad idea to look at it again she thought, as she braced herself and chugged it back. She gagged twice, then shoved another piece of melon in her mouth to try and wash out the taste when she was done. Tears stung the corner of her eyes and for a moment she wasn’t sure the entire thing wasn’t going to come back up.

After a few short breaths she calmed, but the food seemed even less appetizing now, so she decided to start packing up her things for the road. She dressed in her leather travelling gown, tucking her lone dagger in her boot, and packed away her shift and her Confessor’s dress, rearranging it to the bottom of her pack. Then she retrieved the journey book Zedd had acquired from where it also sat on the window bench.

She gave it a quick flip through to the last page to check for any messages from the wizard, finding a few brief words. “ _Travel is uneventful. Richard is making good time and asked me to send his love and that he can’t wait to get back to you. But I suggest we don’t waste the pages with idle chatter. Don’t hesitate to write if you find anything or run into trouble. I will check the books often. Safe travels.”_

Kahlan briefly considered writing back, but she had no real message for Zedd right now, nor Richard. Especially when she wasn’t feeling like she could return the sentiment. She closed the small book and tucked it away in her pack.

Surprisingly, she realized she wasn’t feeling as bad as she had only a short time earlier and meandered back to the bed to pick at her breakfast. Whatever that Creator forsaken mixture was, apparently it was working. Her headache was fading, and on a similar note, despite the drinking and using her power, she did not feel drained.

Yesterday had been the first time in almost a moon cycle that she had used her power. She had felt fully recovered from the Con Dar for a while now and was hopeful that the incredible fatigue she felt after the Pillars was behind her. But she still went as long as possible without using it. 

But weariness was not the only reason she had leaned away from using her Confessor Power. She was sure the memory of being Confessed was something she would never forget. The all consuming need to do anything and everything to please Nicci, to the point that even breathing hurt at the thought of failing to do so. 

How many D’haran Soldiers had she Confessed then sent off to continue life and “help the people” in her two years with the Seeker. How many men never went home to their families because they didn’t know themselves anymore. How many were wandering around, living with that sick pang of fear that they were displeasing their mistress. 

She wondered if she had become too swift to use her power as a form of defence. Yes, these were her enemies, yes the mission was important, but they were also people. People who happened to be born on the wrong side of the Boundary and were taught a different view of the world. That was a lesson she should have learned the moment she met Cara, if not been taught from a young age. 

Her power was meant to serve the truth. Not act as a scalpel to cut men from their existence. 

Suddenly she lost her appetite again as other harsh truths recently spoken about her power returned to her mind. It couldn’t be as simple as Cara had made it out. Could it? Did the Old Wizards purposely tie the Confessor’s magic to their… pleasure as a way to keep them in line? Kahlan felt her cheeks heat even in the room alone.

Zedd was always going on about unintended circumstances of magic. If it hadn’t been the only way to enact the Confessor’s magic, it had to have been an unforeseen side effect. But then the Old Wizards told Confessors they could not love without confession either, yet that had proven to be quite wrong. Her entire life she had been taught to fear love, fear and supress her own desires.

She thought about what it would mean for Confessors to be raised by a family, instead of being cloistered away with only other Confessors. Maybe the wizards _were_ afraid of the independence that would cultivate. That Confessors that saw a life not bound by their power would foster desires for another kind of life.

This round about game of what-if was getting her nowhere but frustrated. She shook off her dark thoughts and forced the rest of her food down. They had a long day ahead of them, and she would need the energy. 

\-------------

When Kahlan made her way downstairs Cara was already out front securing her belongings to her mount. Kahlan’s horse was tethered near by and she greeted the Mord-Sith as she stepped down from the covered porch of the Queen’s Pony. “Good morning Cara, I trust you slept well?”

Cara looked over with a small nod, “Good morning Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan frowned a little, both at Cara’s lack of teasing about last nights drunkenness, and her lack of argument about it being a good morning. “Are you feeling okay?” She smirked, “did you not get enough of that green drink from the Keeper?”

That pulled a small upturn from the corner of Cara’s mouth, but it fell away almost immediately. She answered quietly, “I am fine, thank you.”

_Thank you?_ Something was definitely wrong. Kahlan’s mind started to reel through the night before, searching for something she may have done or said to put Cara in this awkward mood. She realized clinging to the Mord-Sith had probably pushed Cara way past her comfort zone for physical contact when not at risk of dying, but Cara also hadn’t tried to push her away. Could that have been it? Or the teasing about the blankie? Cara did not like talking about her childhood before she was taken. Or her past in general, even if she had been opening up more lately.

Maybe it was the whole thing. Maybe it had just been all together too much.

She thought about apologizing to the Mord-Sith, but past experience had shown that Cara would much rather push past an emotionally charged situation than confront it, so despite her desire to talk and make things right, Kahlan tried to respect that, and acted like nothing was wrong. “Any news from the garrison?”

“No,” Cara said, almost stiffly taking Kahlan’s pack and easing it into one of the saddle bags of the Confessor’s horse. “D’haran movements in the area have been quiet. Captain Freedman thinks any soldiers still loyal to Rahl have gone north to join the forces mounting there.”

Kahlan nodded as she tied her bedroll to the back of her saddle, and secured her sword on top of that, so she could easily access it without having to wear it all day. She made a mental note to write Zedd that evening and remind him to brief the council on this disturbing conglomeration of Dragon Corp in the north, and to keep her informed of any update. “Well hopefully we’ll have an uneventful ride for a few days,” she mused, smiled and looked back at the Mord-Sith. “So we ready to go then?”

Cara stared at her blankly for a beat. “No.”

“ _No_?” Kahlan said back with a quirked brow, “Do you need something before we ride out?”

The Mord-Sith glanced around at the passing crowds, then without warning pulled Kahlan by the arm around a corner, to the sheltered side of the building. Kahlan went without protest, but with building curiosity and worry.

Cara dropped her arm and stepped away, taking a couple paces before turning to face the Confessor.

“Cara what’s wrong?” She shook her head a little, “did I do something?”

The Mord-Sith’s eyes grew wide with shock and she shook her head. “No, Kahlan, I…”

“Cara, what?” Kahlan reached out to take her hand but the Mord-Sith took another step back out of reach.

“Last night…” Cara paused again, her eyebrows knitting together as she searched for words, then her eyes filled with shame and searched for the ground. “Mother Confessor, I have violated your trust and I have forced myself upon you without your consent.”

Once again Kahlan’s mind reeled. Flashing through the events of the previous evening, there were some uncomfortable words, certainly, but nothing she would deem a violation, and she was positive, despite the headache, she had not drunk to the point of effecting her memory. 

But Cara was still refusing to meet her eyes. Forced herself? Was she worried about the way she had held her in the bed? If anything, _she_ had cornered the Mord-Sith. “Cara,” she offered cautiously, “I know I was a little tipsy, but nothing hap..”

“No.” Green eyes shot up in frustration, then she pulled both gloved hands down her face. After a deep breath, she folded her fingers in front of her mouth. “The bond.”

Now Kahlan was even more confused, but sensed Cara needed to get out whatever it was she was trying to say, so she waited instead of questioning.

Finally, Cara cracked her neck and dropped her hands. Her features slowly dissolved into the stoic face of the Mord Sith, and she spoke as if giving a scouting report. “When I took the potion Zedd provided me to sever the bond. I did not bond to myself. I pledged myself to you.”

Kahlan’s entire body thrummed.

Cara continued, “after we spoke last night, I realized I am no better than the men who forced powers onto generations of women for their own means. I am not worthy to be in your service and I will leave at once to catch up to the wizard and force him to reverse my wrong.”

Kahlan was paralyzed in place as thought and emotion fought against each other for coherence. All she could do was stare at the Mord Sith, who’s face betrayed no emotion, but still managed to radiate with waves of uncertainty. 

But still Kahlan could only stare.

Moments ticked by. The blonde, no longer able to bear the weight of silence, shuffled her feet. “Kahlan, I...”

As if freed by her name, Kahlan suddenly lurched forward and pulled the Mord Sith into a fierce embrace. Cara of course, arms at her sides, took it stiffly. 

Eventually Kahlan was able to force words to her most pressing question. “Why would you do that?” she whispered.

“I am... sorry.” The shame in Cara’s voice was palpable.

“No Cara,” Kahlan leaned back and looked her in the eye, “you could have been free of it. You deserve so much for your life to be your own.” She could feel the sting in her eyes of impending tears, but forced them away, knowing that was the last thing Cara needed right now. “Why would you bond yourself to me?”

“I am Mord-Sith,” she said as if that explained everything.

“What?” That was the least sensical reason Kahlan could think of for Cara to bond herself to a Confessor. 

“I was created to serve,” she said matter-of-factly. “I wish to be free from the will of others, but I still seek purpose.”

“You could have served a purpose without chaining yourself to it Cara.”

The Mord-Sith had no reply to that, only stood at attention.

“But why me?” Kahlan asked again, quietly this time.

“Why not you?” A little life returned to the Mord-Sith’s voice, “You are fierce and honourable, and I know whatever cause is taken up in your name, it will be the right one.” Kahlan once again fought back the stinging in her eyes, as Cara’s again fell away. “But I was wrong to do so without asking. And I intend on fixing my error.”

Cara stepped to leave, but Kahlan quickly grabbed her arm and spun her back. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Is that an order?” Cara asked with a sardonic smirk.

Kahlan replied with a punch to the shoulder. “Stop that!” Then pulled her into another hug.

Again Cara did not return it, but perhaps took it a little less rigidly than the last.

“I don’t pretend to understand why you did this Cara,” the Confessor whispered, “but if its what you want, then I’m not upset about it. I am honoured that you have come to think so highly of me.” She squeezed the Mord-Sith a little tighter, and this time felt a hand come to rest tentatively on her lower back.

\--------------------

They had ridden north-east quietly for a nearly half a day. Cara hadn’t spoken a word in that time. Kahlan had spent that time in an endless loop of meditation. On Cara. On her powers and old wizards. On Nicci and Rahl. Oddly enough, she noted, all these endless marks of reflection and Richard had been hardly spared a thought. If that wasn’t telling about how much things had changed, she didn’t know what was.

She would always love Richard. Always be thankful for the love and trust he had given her in a world that had always kept its distance. But their paths were too different. _They_ were too different. Whichever one of them bent their life to the other would not be happy in the end. Kahlan only hoped that Richard would come to understand this as well. 

She shifted in her saddle. It was getting harder to sit comfortably. She turned to the Mord-Sith riding behind her. “Do you mind if we walk the horses a while? My butt is getting sore,” she added playfully, hoping to pull a reaction.

“Of course,” Cara only said with a nod, and immediately moved to dismount.

Kahlan sighed inwardly. She didn’t want to push Cara, but she hoped this new mood she had been in since this morning would not last. She had broken the bond days ago and was fine until today. Kahlan had assured her as much as she could that she was not angry. Shocked, yes. Confused, definitely. But not angry. How could she be?

She slid off her horse and began walking, as she stole another glance at the Mord-Sith, who was tucking her waterskin back into a saddle bag. The Confessor wasn’t sure what she had ever done to earn this level of trust and respect from Cara, but she knew, bond or not, she couldn’t deny she had come to possess a similar level of loyalty to the Mord-Sith. She was, after all, here, following her into the heart of enemy territory, and not with the First Wizard or the Seeker as duty would dictate. Yes, she did believe this was their best chance to find and stop Rahl. But that was because she believed _in Cara._

She hoped that Cara knew that. But instinct told her now was not the time to bring it up. 

She was determined to give the Mord-Sith the space she needed to process whatever was going on in her head. But as the marks went by, and the afternoon dragged on, she had to admit she had questions, and the silence was killing her.

“Just ask Confessor.”

“What?” Kahlan was pulled out of her thoughts. 

“You have been looking over here every few paces for the last mark. Whatever it is, just ask before you trip over a root and fall under the horse.”

Kahlan smiled at Cara sounding a little more like herself. “You don’t mind?” she asked as she fell back a few steps to walk along side the Mord-Sith.

Cara rolled her head at her with an impatient look.

“Okay,” Kahlan pursed her lips and thought what she wanted to ask first. “I don’t feel any different. Shouldn’t I be able to feel the bond too?” It was true. She had been scrutinizing every feeling in her body all day and nothing felt noticeably different. 

“Richard never felt the bond either,” the Mord-Sith explained, “because he did not accept it, or do anything to strengthen it. And he has an entire nation bonded to him. So it does not surprise me that you don’t feel it.”

“But I could?”

Cara cocked an eyebrow at that. “I suppose, if you trained yourself, probably.”

“But you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“What does it feel like?” Kahlan saw the Mord-Sith straighten a little out of the corner of her eye.

“What do you mean what does it feel like?”

If she didn’t know better, she would have thought Cara’s ears had turned a shade more pink. “What do you mean, what do I mean?” she laughed. “If I wanted to try and feel it, what should I be looking for?”

“I don’t know what the Lord Rahl felt, Confessor,” she replied flatly.

“Okay, but what do _you_ feel?” Kahlan pressed again, not understanding why the Mord-Sith was being so evasive on this of all questions. 

Cara’s shoulders heaved in resignation as she cracked her head to the side. “It feels like a pull. Kind of like a very weak magnet. I have to focus to feel it, but its there, it…”

“It what?”

Cara huffed a long breath.

“It _what_ Cara?”

“Feels like _tingling,”_ the Mord-Sith forced out distastefully.

“Tingling?” Kahlan frowned, “Like when your foot falls asleep?”

The look Cara gave her was one of beseeching an end to torture. But Kahlan just lifted her brow expectantly, knowing it was somewhat unfair, but curiosity demanded an answer.

Cara sighed again, stared ahead down the trail, then coughed. “Like barely running fingers over the fine hairs on your arm.”

“Oh,” she didn’t know why she suddenly felt embarrassed, “and is that what it felt like before? With Rahl?”

“No,” the answer came quietly.

Kahlan found herself staring at the blonde when she softly asked the next question. “What did that feel like?”

“Like the fine hairs on your arms standing at attention.”

“Oh.” They walked in silence for a while before Kahlan spoke quietly once more. “Cara, you know I would, I would never force you to do… well anything, right?”

“Of course I know that Kahlan,” came an exhausted reply.

“Okay good,” she said with relief. “Although,” she added trying to lighten the mood, “it would be useful to be able to make you smack yourself in the face once in a while.”

A scowling blonde head slowly turned in her direction. 

“Do you think I would be able to do that,” she asked with a mischievous grin.

“I know little about the Lord Rahl’s side of the bond, Confessor. You would have to ask the wizard for guidance on that and, while you’re at it, ask if he knows how to regrow the limb you’ll lose.”

“Is that any way to speak to your Lady Amnell?” Kahlan asked as supercilious as she could manage.

She could see Cara’s attempt to glare at her out of the corner of her eye, but then her face cracked, and she looked away shaking her head. 

\----------

Unfortunately, the reprieve in Cara’s demeanour didn’t last and she soon sunk back to quietly brooding. Kahlan had always thought of the Mord-Sith as quiet, but it wasn’t until now that she barely spoke, she realized just how much the woman actually participated in their conversations and kept things light and interesting during their endless days on the road.

And the woman was getting more temperamental by the league, taking longer trips to hunt or collect wood when they camped at night, clutching at her Agiels more and more, the way she only did when she was trying to purge thought from her mind. Kahlan was beginning to suspect the bond was not Cara’s only issue, and every day they marched on the crash course with their inevitable destination seemed to only put the Mord-Sith more on edge.

Kahlan was trying her best to allow Cara to work through whatever was bothering her, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on before she spoke up. If Cara didn’t let out whatever was eating at her before they reached Stowecroft, the odds were high that she would explode and take out the town with her once they arrived. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found and have been using this map for reference of the journey if anybody is wondering where the hell we are in the world
> 
> https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/illusivities/48395471/524/524_600.jpg


	12. Chapter 12

Cara knew she had no right to her mood. But try as she might, she just couldn’t shake it. And every step closer they took towards Stowecroft was only feeding the provocation. The worst part was that Kahlan was trying her best to be _understanding_ and give her space, but that too was only amplifying the problem.

Kahlan thought this was brought on by Cara’s decision to bond herself to the Confessor without her permission, and although Cara was still angry at herself for not considering Kahlan’s feelings on the matter first, she had insisted she was okay with it, and Cara took her at her word. 

No, Cara was happy to let her believe that was the issue, but her mood was not because of how she had bonded herself to Kahlan.

She had immense respect for the Confessor’s strength and skill in battle, her intelligence, and even her ability to turn something as weak as emotions into an asset. The Mother Confessor had proven time and again that she would be worthy of Cara’s service.

Her problem was not _how_ she had bonded herself to Kahlan, but _why_ she had bonded herself to Kahlan.

Her problem was that somewhere along the way she had failed herself, failed her years of training, failed her years of emotional mastery. Somewhere along the way, without noticing, cracks formed, allegiances swayed. Her problem was that in the end, bonding herself to Kahlan wasn’t even a decision because she was _already_ _there_. 

She was already following the Confessor. Deferring to her judgment. Staying closer to her in battle, watching her back instead of the Lord Rahl’s. Seeking her opinion. Seeking her company. Offering comfort.

 _Caring_.

Cara gripped her Agiel as hard as she could, letting the pain vibrate up her arm, allowing the sensation to take over and clear thought from her mind. It was only when her horse neighed a complaint that she stopped. She quickly scratched the mare’s neck in apology. She was perilously close to being out of control and she knew it. Suddenly she reared her horse and dismounted. “I’m going to fill the water skins.”

Kahlan looked back in surprise from atop her light brown gelding. “We’re only a couple marks from Stowecroft, is that really necessary?”

“I am thirsty now,” she bit back harshly.

“Okay,” Kahlan nodded quietly. But Cara could clearly see the flash of hurt cross the Confessor’s face before she turned away and dismounted as well. Kahlan untethered her waterskin from the mount and held it out to her. “I’ll feed the horses while you go.”

Cara opened her mouth, then shut it, snatched the skin and stormed off into the woods in search of the stream she saw veer away from the trail a few leagues back. 

She wished Kahlan would just yell at her already. She did not deserve this patience. She had been short and distant with the Confessor for days, and the Confessor had done nothing to earn it. Cara knew it. But she couldn’t stop. And it was only serving to magnify why Cara did not deserve to feel this… _this._

She reached the stream, removed her gloves and knelt to plunge the first skin into the cool, fast flowing water. If Cara was truly honest with herself this _affection_ for the Confessor was nothing new. It had been dancing at the edges of her awareness for some time, coming most painfully close to penetrating it fully when she couldn’t loose her Creator-be-damned arrow to release Kahlan from the Con Dar. But she had always been able to push it back. Always been able to regain her control and discipline over her own self.

She corked the first skin and submerged the second. 

Since that last night in Brennidon she was no longer able to deny she had lost governance of her mind. No longer able to deny that she _felt._ And the worst part of this entire fiasco was that even if she could forgive herself this weakness, _allow_ herself this weakness, it had landed in the one place where it could never be reciprocated. 

Cara placed the filled skin next to the other on the grass and used her now freed hands to cup water from the stream and splash it on her face. She had to find a way to regain control. She had a mission to see through, a duty. Maybe she could find one of those assholes in Stowecroft that tried to have her executed and take her frustrations out on them.

Stowecroft.

She took a deep breath and held it as long as she could before snatching up her gloves and waterskins and stomped back through the brush.

“Maybe we should ride around Stowecroft,” Cara stated as she returned Kahlan’s freshly filled canteen. 

Kahlan gave her a sad smile which left the Mord-Sith itching for her Agiel. “Cara…”

“That town is nothing but trouble. They tried to kill you too, remember?” she tried to argue.

“Cara you said yourself we need to properly supply before we cross the Azrith, and it’s the last large settlement before the plain.”

“And if there’s trouble?”

“Your sister’s farm is on the outskirts of town. We can get a feel for the situation, and if it’s too hostile, I am sure she will be willing to help us out.” Kahlan’s nose twitched, “or at least you. I’m not sure she’s a fan of mine.”

Cara only grunted a she climbed back atop her horse.

“She will be happy to see you Cara,” the Confessor assured with a smile.

\-------------

They had stood on the edge of the clearing in front of her childhood home approaching a quarter mark now. And in the tradition of being annoyingly considerate, Kahlan seemed willing to wait as long as Cara needed to make further approach. She knew her sister would be glad to see her. And she _had_ promised Grace to return and visit again someday, but she had thought that would be in the distant future, where maybe possibly she died before having to follow through.

This wretched town was just another example of the Mord-Sith letting her guard down and it returning to bite her in the ass. She had intended to put in a lot more time and space before paying it another visit. Cara briefly considered turning them back into the woods, when the front door of the house opened, and the decision was taken from her hands.

Grace’s eyes lit up as they moved from confusion to finding strangers at the edge of her property, to recognition, and began almost skipping towards them. Kahlan nudged her in the back, and Cara tossed her a scowl before leading her horse forward to meet her sister halfway.

Grace looked as if she were about to throw herself right into Cara but stopped herself short. “You came back.”

“I said I would,” she replied as if the visit should not come as a surprise. Cara cleared her throat then waved her hand, “we are only passing through. We need to resupply and thought perhaps we could take shelter in the barn for the night.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Cara,” Grace shook her head and reached to take the Mord-Sith’s arm. “You know there is plenty of room in the house. Of course you are welcome here.”

Cara gave an almost imperceptible nod of ascent.

“We are grateful for your hospitality,” Kahlan added quite formally, with what sounded like a hint of nervousness.

“Of course Mother Confessor,” Grace replied, taking Kahlan in with a slight twitch to her brow and a small bow of the head, “it is an honour to be of service.” 

But Cara was unconcerned with the somewhat icy greeting. Knowing her sister and the Confessor, it wouldn’t be long before they were chatting like old school friends. She grimaced inwardly. It was a good thing she had two Agiels.

By the time Cara had returned from stabling the horses and bringing in their gear, Kahlan and her sister were in fact laughing over a cup of tea. They straightened as she entered the kitchen, and Cara eyed them both suspiciously as she took as seat at the table. She decided she didn’t want to know and took the mug of tea Grace offered.

“It’s not going to be a problem for you, us staying here, is it?” Cara asked as her sister placed a plate of cookies in the middle of the table. “With your family?” She noted, thankfully, Grace had not asked her to change this time.

“You mean Sirian? Don’t worry about him. He spent two week’s sleeping in the barn after what he pulled the last time, and he is lucky he didn’t get worse.”

Cara blinked at the almost reflection of a scowl on her sister’s face. From the quiet smile playing across Kahlan’s lips she recognized it too. Care coughed once and reached for a cookie. “And the children?”

“I have spoken to them at length about you since you were here last. And word has travelled about your adventures with the Seeker,” Grace said with a smile. “You’ll find opinions in the town have swayed.” Her eyes moved to the Confessor. “And those on the council and the town guard who defied you have been removed from their positions. No matter their feelings on Mord-Sith, so violently going against the Mother Confessor’s command did not go over well with the people of this town.”

Kahlan opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of the door opening gave her pause, and a moment later Ella and the boy, Timothy was it? Strolled into the kitchen carrying their schoolbooks. Ella stopped quietly in the entrance way. Timothy seemed not to notice the guests.

“Hi Mom,” the boy said without looking at anything but the plate of cookies he immediately reached for. 

Grace smacked his hand. “Say hello to your Aunt, Timothy, and the Mother Confessor.”

The boy blinked as if only now realizing there were other people in the room. Cara balked at the term aunt. Kahlan, of course, was smiling again.

“Oh hey Aunty Cara!” If Cara didn’t know better, she would think the boy was excited to see her. “Are you here to kill somebody?” he asked curiously as questions began to pour out of him, “Is it true you killed a witch? How many Banelings _have_ you killed?” 

“ _Timothy!”_ Grace took two cookies and shoved them in his hand, “just go do your homework.”

“But mom,” the boy stuffed an entire cookie in his mouth, talking around it and waving his hands as he spoke, “Davy told me Aunty Cara took down an entire squad of Dragon Corp on her own to save the Seeker from a horde of Gars. Is it fair that _Davy_ knows more about my own Aunt than me?” He stuffed the other cookie in, “you should really think of this as an educational opportunity mom. Its like living history in our own house.”

Cara liked this kid. “I’m afraid that is an exaggeration, but do as your mother asks and before I depart, I will tell you about what happened with the witch.”

“ _Really?”_

Cara nodded her agreement; she was particularly fond of that story. She could see her sister beaming at her out of the corner of her eye. 

“Maybe you could tell them about how you saved the Night Wisps from extinction instead Cara. It might be a more appropriate tale,” Kahlan offered, unhelpfully in Cara’s opinion. And the Mord-Sith was sure to let her know that with a scowl.

“The boy doesn’t want to hear about how I jogged through the woods carrying a chattering speck, Confessor.”

“You’ve seen Night Wisps?” came a quiet voice of reverence from the entrance.

Cara slowly turned to the girl standing shyly against the door frame looking at her nervously.

“She _saved_ the Night Wisps,” Kahlan reiterated. “Your Aunt ran day and night to get the last Wisp to the ancient grotto in time to give birth to her young. Without Cara, there would be no more Wisps, and eventually no more magic.”

“Wow, wait until Davy hears that!” Timothy sounded impressed. 

Ella continued to stare at her Aunt, quietly chewing her lip in thought. Cara knew she still made the girl uncomfortable, and she understood why. The feeling was somewhat mutual. It was like looking at her younger self.

Grace finally interrupted the quiet staring contest. “Okay kids, homework before dinner, and your chores. You can bother your Aunt Cara later.” Adding, “Miss Hern is not going to be happy with you if you miss another assignment Timothy,” after the boy let out a disagreeable sigh. Then Timothy snatched a couple more cookies and fled the room. Grace offered the plate out for Ella, who also took a cookie, then politely nodded her exit.

“Miss Hern?” Cara smirked and grabbed another cookie for herself. They reminded her of her mother’s. “Better than the last teacher I hope,” she added sarcastically.

“Mmm,” Grace agreed slowly. “The children seem fond of her, and she grew up in Stowecroft before moving to Tobermory to teach. She came back when the position opened,” she took a thoughtful sip of tea, “you must remember Dahlia? You were quite close as children.”

Cara heard a small choking noise come from the Confessor, as the hairs on the back of her own neck stood up on end. _Of course_ she remembered Dahlia. They had been near inseparable when they were little. Before Cara had been taken. She also remembered what Zedd had told her about the Dahlia of another reality. The one where Dahlia had been taken with her. The one where Dahlia had betrayed her.

Suddenly, what had, against all odds managed to turn into a comfortable afternoon was gone, and the twisting discomfort she had felt the past week returned with a vengeance. She could feel Kahlan’s eyes on her but refused to meet them as she slowly pushed herself away from the table. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Is everything alright?” Grace also rose, concern pulling at her features.

“It’s fine,” she answered flatly.

“Cara...” she cut the Confessor off with a hand, then was gone.

\-------------------------------

Cara had not intended to end up at the schoolhouse, only to walk off the steam that was building up inside her, and maybe find something to hit. But she supposed it wasn’t surprising this was where she ended up. She couldn’t deny this morbid pull that wanted to see the face of the one who could so completely pull the wool over her eyes. 

In many ways, the Mord-Sith were indeed a tightly bonded sisterhood, but in a world where the only loyalty that mattered was loyalty to Lord Rahl, in a world where the bond could force compliance out of even the closest ally, trust was not something to be given. Never completely.

But, according to the wizard, she had enough trust for this woman, _this Dahlia_ , to be led into what sounded like an extremely obvious trap, and was destroyed to a point that only undoing the entire world could reverse it.

A mother and daughter exited the schoolhouse and Cara took another step back into the trees. This town apparently had a change of heart on the subject of herself, but she was certain that would not last should the Mord-Sith be found lurking around the school. 

A head of long honey-brown hair splashed past the window, then moved to the chalkboard where the woman began vigorously erasing what was written there. Cara walked through the trees to find a better angle and well, she was certainly an attractive woman, and _vaguely_ familiar. She could see traces of her childhood friend in her features.

But most of the Mord-Sith in D’hara were more than their share of attractive, and familiarity would not be enough for Cara to let her guard down. She had a close bond to several of her sisters, but she would not have wandered off with them like that, not without being weary of their motivations. Remaining vigilant. Even Berdine, who she trusted above all else, was not immune from being influenced by the bond. But something about _this_ woman had allowed Cara to forget logic, forget experience, and be taken for a fool.

Cara scoffed at herself and pushed a hand through her hair. In two separate existences, she managed to let an emotional weakness take hold, and in the worst possible place. The first time in a place she could have, but never trust, this time in a place she could trust, but never have. If it didn’t make her want to stab everyone between here and the People’s Palace, she might actually find it funny. 

She reached up and violently twisted a branch off a nearby tree then threw it against the trunk. The Mord-Sith took one long last glance at the woman in the schoolhouse and charged off back towards her sister’s.

\------------------

When she got back to the farmhouse, she found she was unable to make herself go inside. Her anger had been building with every step she took away from the school, from this _Dahlia_. Anger at this woman she didn’t know, who was able to hurt her so badly. Anger at herself for caring about somebody so much that it could happen. Anger at herself because now it could happen again.

She stormed into the barn and began frantically scanning for an outlet. A series of buckets hanging on pegs on the wall inside were the first victim. She began pulling them off and throwing them across the barn as hard as she could.

A loud moo of grievance came from a stall at the far end of the building. “Oh moo yourself!” Cara snapped at the animal. She knew she was acting childish. Out of control. She pressed her fingers to her closed eyes and sought the calm. She was Mord-Sith damn it! She was master of herself. Master of the pain.

Her eyes opened and landed on her saddle bags hanging over the stall where she had left their horses, her bow peaking out of where she had tucked it inside. She marched over and pulled it free, then shouldered her quiver, before seeking out a place to take aim. The far wall had all manner of tools hanging about, it made as good a target range as any. 

She knocked an arrow and pulled it back with a steady breath.

She was Mord-Sith. Master of pain. 

She released the arrow with a loud thunk into the wall then immediately knocked another. This _weakness_ may not be the touch of an Agiel, or a bruise, or a broken limb, but it was pain none the less.

Another arrow flew into the wall a few inches from the last.

She was Mord-Sith. She could master the pain.

Another arrow, and another. She slowly made a straight line across the barn wall, a little more anger flying away with each arrow. She would master this pain. Shape it into something useful.

When her quiver was empty, she retrieved the set of arrows and began again. Steady breathing, mind clearing with each pull. She moulded the pain.

 _As long as the Mother Confessor’s pure heart beats the Keeper is doomed to fail._

Another arrow thumped into the wall.

The rift to the Underworld was long sealed, but to Cara the mantra remained. It was a truth that ran so much deeper than a single mission. Because she was certain if there was one thing that could keep this Creator forsaken world from completely tearing itself apart, it was the Mother Confessor. It was Kahlan. 

She released another arrow into the wall.

Kahlan was not Dahlia. Not a broken woman with torn loyalties.

_Thunk._

Kahlan was honourable. Kahlan was worthy of trust.

_Thunk._

But Kahlan needed someone beside her that _she_ could trust. That could help her bare the load when duty weighed too heavy.

_Thunk._

And frankly Cara was the only person she trusted to watch Kahlan’s back.

_Thunk._

Mord-Sith had always found satisfaction in duty. It would only prove more gratifying to be serving someone who was actually worthy. 

_Thunk._

She would mould this weakness into the iron back bone of her duty. She would be stronger for it. Serve better. And she would never falter.

Cara loosed her final arrow and with it the weight came off her shoulders. Before she could move a small noise from behind alerted her to a visitor. A peak over the shoulder revealed her wide-eyed niece.

“I’m sorry, aun.. Aunt Cara,” Ella said with a swallow, “but mother sent me to feed the animals.”

“It’s fine,” Cara dismissed, “I am finished here.” She moved to collect her arrows but noticed the girl had not moved from just inside the barn door. 

Ella was frowning at the side wall. 

“What’s wrong?”

Ella shook her head, “nothing, just the buckets are missing.” 

Cara coughed and began pulling arrows from the wall, placing them in her quiver. “I think I saw some over there,” she gestured to the corner where she had thrown them earlier.

Ella walked over, frown on her face, to retrieve one. When Cara looked over again, she was holding the bucket and watching her clean up her arrows. Cara hooked a questioning brow. The girl looked nervous but eventually spoke her thought. “I’ve never seen a girl shoot a bow before.”

Cara scoffed. Of course she hadn’t in this backwater hole. “Girls can do anything boys can do Ella, in fact, women are stronger than men, don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”

She nodded but didn’t quite look like she agreed.

Cara held out her bow, “Would you like to try?”

The girl chewed on her lip and stared at the weapon. “I don’t want to kill anything.”

That pulled an ironic smirk of familiarity from the Mord-Sith. “Yes, a bow is a weapon, but its good for more than just hunting. It can teach you control and focus, and it can be an enjoyable way to clear the mind.”

“Is that what you were doing?” the child asked curiously.

Cara bit back her sarcastic retort. This was by far the most words Ella had ever strung together in her presence, and Grace would unlikely appreciate it if she sent the child crying into the house. “Come,” she said instead, “give it a try.”

Cara paced back about half way down the bar and waited until her niece put down the bucket and joined her. “Okay, now point one foot to the side, and one slightly forward like so,” she handed Ella the bow, “don’t be discouraged if its difficult. This bow is a little large for your size.” 

Ella nodded and listened intently as Cara explained how to hold the bow and knock the arrow. 

“Now aim straight ahead at where you want to shoot it, and pull back with the muscles of your shoulder and back.” Ella did as she was told. “Keep your elbow level,” Cara adjusted it, but was surprised at how much strength the seemingly demure girl was able to put into the draw. “Good, I guess flinging hay at cows makes you strong.” Her joke pulled a small laugh from the girl, and Cara felt a ripple of pride wash through her. She waved her hand and added gruffly, “sometime today.”

Ella’s brow knitted together in fierce concentration at the horseshoe they had selected for her to target. Lip pinched between her teeth she let the arrow loose, flying a good three feet high and to the left, but it wasn’t a bad first try. “Good. Again.” Cara offered out another arrow.

“I can’t,” Ella tried to hand back the bow. “I have chores before dinner.”

Cara glanced at the pile of buckets she tossed in the corner. “How long do they usually take?”

“About a mark.”

“Well then, you can practice for half a mark and then I will help you with your chores. They will be done in half the time or better.” Cara leaned forward as if to share a secret, “women are stronger than men, and two of us together only multiplies the advantage.” She straightened back up. “Okay?”

Ella nodded with a small smile.

“Okay then,” she held out the arrow, “again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the hardest chapters for me to write. I, like Cara, do not do well with directly confronting emotions and sometimes it felt choppy, but for the sake of allowing the story to move forward I pushed through. 
> 
> I don't think they ever gave Grace's son a name so I made one up.  
> I don't know if Dahlia has a last name, but I read Hern in another story and liked it so went with it. 
> 
> Book readers will recognize my homage to "Women are stronger than men." I could not help myself. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading, you all are the best!


	13. Chapter 13

Kahlan knew coming to Stowecroft would be difficult for Cara, no matter how much the woman tried to proclaim her lack of emotions, there was too much history here. But she had been so caught up in worry of an already testy Cara’s response to returning to this town, she had been completely unprepared for her own visceral reaction. But when she rounded the street corner into the town square, and her eyes fell on the open rotunda where she had not so long ago held the Mord-Sith’s life between her fingers, that is exactly what she had.

Stopped dead in her tracks, a wave of nausea crashed through her, and her knees began to shake threatening to take her legs out from under her. She had been so blinded by her own hate she almost didn’t see. Almost destroyed Cara before ever giving her a chance. And the worst of it was she never would have known what a loss it would have been. 

She couldn’t help the fleeting thought that wondered how many other “Caras” she _had_ destroyed over the course of her life.

Cara, of course, sauntered up like they were visiting the baker to choose a loaf of bread, not the site of her impending death, and canted her hip. “Memories,” she said with a fond tilt of the head.

“Cara,” Kahlan glowered, “it’s not funny.”

“It kind of is.”

“I was a blink away from ending your life Cara.”

The Mord-Sith shrugged. “I’ve died before.”

“Not like that.” Not by Confession. Not permanently.

“Well it would get boring if I died the same way every time Confessor.”

Kahlan pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, “How can you be so lackadaisical about this? Do you have any idea what it would be like without you here?”

Cara bobbed her head thoughtfully, “well you all would have died…”

“Cara.”

“What, Kahlan?” The Mord-Sith suddenly serious. “Do you really want to re-live that?” She gestured at the platform in front of them, “to what end? What is done is done. Take the lessons and leave the rest in the past where it belongs.”

Kahlan blinked, wondering when Cara had become the emotionally mature one in this relationship. _Friendship_ , her mind quickly corrected for some reason. A friendship that almost never happened because of what happened up on that podium. 

“Or we could get up there and give the town a replay,” Cara waved impatiently at the passing crowds watching them curiously.

“Right,” Kahlan let out a long sigh, forced her eyes away, then started back down the street towards the market stalls. After a few paces she opened her mouth again, “I just…”

“No.” The Mord-Sith pointed a gloved finger in her face.

The Confessor couldn’t stop the small smile that came in response. Cara seemed lighter today. Definitely more engaged than she had been since they left the Queen’s Pony. She wasn’t sure exactly what caused the change, but the relief of it helped to wash away some of the sickness still rolling through her stomach. 

When the Mord-Sith had stormed out of Grace’s kitchen the previous afternoon, she was sure a wake of destruction would be left in her path. Cara had been simmering since Brennidon and seemed to finally boil over at the sound of Dahlia’s name.

Zedd had filled them all in about his spell of undoing, and what had led to his need to use it. Not surprising, Cara had never spoken of it. But Kahlan didn’t have to read the Mord-Sith to know the knowledge that somebody had pried their way passed her iron-clad defences only to betray her would not sit well.

Initially she feared the closeness and trust she had so painstakingly built with Cara would fall victim in the aftermath. But whether speaking to the bond that had grown between them, or just the sheer rush of those final days before the solstice, the whole affair seemed to have rolled off Cara like water on an oilskin.

At least she thought it had. Until she went running out of her sister’s kitchen like a Gar on fire. She had no idea where Cara had disappeared too, but she turned up for dinner with her niece in tow looking as sated as when she returned from a successful hunt.

After some initial discomfort, the Mord-Sith even managed to descend into an amenable conversation with Sirian about Ja’La strategy, and then offered up use of their horses to help pull a large stump and break land on a plot he had recently finished clearing. 

Kahlan was itching to ask Cara where she had been, but as if sensing Kahlan’s need to talk, as soon as dinner was over, the blonde made herself scarce helping haul in water for baths and chopping wood. The Confessor didn’t completely mind though, it gave her an opportunity to hear more childhood stories of Cara from her sister without risk of mortal injury, and conversely allowed her to dote on Cara’s actions during their quest in return. Seeing the pride swell in Grace’s eyes almost brought tears to her own. How much pain this family had been through. But here they were, somehow still managing to be a family.

By the time she had crawled up into the loft above the living area to sleep, Kahlan was blown away by the simple domesticity of the day. Yes, chores were a part of living on the road, but it was definitely the first time in the Confessor’s life she had leaned over a tub of hot soapy water and washed a family’s worth of dishes. It was almost cathartic, wiping the plates clean while Grace worked nearby kneading dough for the next day’s bread.

She tried to stay awake until Cara joined her but was unsuccessful, lulled to sleep by the soft murmur from below of her conversing with her sister late into the night. Then the Mord-Sith was up and gone to help her brother-in-law before Kahlan had even stirred the next morning. The only evidence she had ever been there were the tussled blankets beside her. 

When Cara strode in for breakfast she looked as pleased with herself at taking out “the bastard stump” as she did taking out a Quad. Kahlan couldn’t help but think this type of life may have suited the Mord-Sith in another time and place. Perhaps after things settled down, they could make a regular visit to the Mason family farm.

Kahlan balked at her self-inclusion. 

“It’s not a confusing question Confessor, its not like there are endless options.”

Kahlan blinked out of her thoughts and stared at the Mord-Sith. “What?”

Cara nodded irritably at the array of dried meats displayed on the cart she hadn’t even noticed approaching. “Do you have any preference?”

“No.” She shook her head quickly, “actually not rabbit, if you don’t mind. I’ve had enough for two lifetimes I think.”

Cara grunted her agreement and turned back to the table and began warning the merchant not to slip them any low-quality product. They perused the vendors and hawkers a while longer, picking up several extra waterskins, dried fruit, nuts and honey baked oats, which wouldn’t require water like rice or tapioca. Kahlan was looking at headscarves to possibly protect from the raging heat of the plain when she realized the Mord-Sith was no longer with her.

A glance around the market found her companion a few carts down inspecting a bow. 

“Something wrong with your bow?” Kahlan asked as she meandered up beside the Mord-Sith.

“No.” Cara flexed the bow, then drew it back as she took aim at an imaginary target.

“A little small for you, isn’t it?”

That only earned her an elusive hum in response as the Mord-Sith turned the weapon in her hands inspecting for flaws, before nodding her approval at the merchant.

“It’s great for beginners Mistress, a very forgiving weapon,” a lanky looking man, placed a quiver full of arrows on the table, “and these will hold up well to the abuses of an untrained hand.”

Cara placed some coins in the man’s palm, picked up the quiver and set off down the market without another word.

“Beginner?” Kahlan mumbled to herself, before breaking into a smile and rushing after the Mord-Sith. “Did Aunty Cara just buy a gift for her nephew?”

“Don’t make me Agiel you in front of the townspeople Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan smiled, “you did.”

“Of course not.”

Kahlan spared her a disbelieving glance.

“It’s for Ella,” she finally conceded pragmatically. “The girl expressed interest and it is a quality discipline that will develop many important skills.”

“So it will make you the favourite aunt,” Kahlan supplied. The Mord-Sith refused comment. “You know, you can’t get something for Ella, and not Timothy.”

“Why not?”

“Because that would be like picking favourites Cara, you can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Kahlan laughed, “because you can’t”

Cara rolled her eyes and her head at the Confessor with a sigh, “so what do I get the boy?”

“Probably a bow.” Kahlan eyed the weapon in Cara’s hands, and received a frown in return.

“I cannot give them the same thing,” the Mord-Sith spat with distaste, causing another laugh to escape from the Confessor. “Then it is not, you know…” she waved her hand around.

“Special,” Kahlan supplied.

“ _Unique,_ ” the Mord-Sith chewed back, and the Confessor decided not to point out that meant the same. “Perhaps some shuriken,” she added after a moment of thought, “I saw some at the stand with the bows.” Cara started to turn but Kahlan quickly grabbed her arm and spun her back.

“Oh no. Grace would have your head if you did that, Cara. The bow is probably already pushing your luck.”

Cara grinned impishly, “I don’t need luck, I’m…”

“Cara Mason.”

Two heads flashed around to the bright voice calling the Mord-Sith’s name. A tall woman with honey-brown hair was ambling towards them with a slight head bob and grinning like she’d won something. A quick glance at Cara caught the briefest deer-in-a-hunter’s-sights look before it was shoved firmly behind a ten-yard wall of Mord-Sith stoicism, and she _knew_ this was Dahlia.

Kahlan was shocked that her first instinct was to pull her dagger from her boot and throw it into this young woman’s chest. She had to fight to remind herself that _this_ Dahlia was not the other Dahlia. This Dahlia had never been taken, never been broken, never stood in front of Kahlan in the mask of a friend as she took Cara off to be erased.

She had to push back the shadow of a memory that didn’t even exist. The feeling was so natural, so reflexive, she couldn’t help but wonder if Zedd’s spell of undoing had left traces of the world it left behind, or if her protectiveness over her friend truly ran so deep it needed to defend her from the threat of another life. She wondered if Cara felt it too. She wondered _what_ Cara felt _._

“Dahlia,” the Mord-Sith replied without emotion.

“You remember me.” The other woman’s smile stretched in further victory. “I heard a rumour you were in town, and I had to…” She reached out to grasp Cara’s arm and her face turned serious, “there hasn’t been a day since you were taken that I haven’t thought about you.”

Cara for her part just glared at the intrusion, to which Dahlia seemed completely unaffected, and began affectionately running her fingers down towards the Mord-Sith’s gloved hand. Kahlan felt a protective twist in her gut and stepped forward. “Nice to meet you Dahlia, I’m,”

“The Mother Confessor.” Dahlia dropped Cara’s hand as she bowed her head cheerfully, then immediately turned back to the Mord-Sith. “I heard you were travelling with the Seeker. Off saving the world,” she twirled her hand in the air with a wistful smile. “You look great Cara.”

Cara still said nothing, once again only widening Dahlia’s grin.

“Still can’t take a compliment huh?” She turned to the Confessor, “when we were little, I would tell Cara how pretty I thought she was. She would turn red as a tomato and refuse to speak or make eye contact for at least a mark.”

Kahlan forced a smile onto her face at what she would normally find to be a deliciously endearing piece of Cara information, but instead only felt like needles stabbing in her chest. She felt completely out of her element, wanting to get Cara as far away from this woman as she could, as fast as she could; feeling oddly threatened by a situation she was unable to do anything about, because it was not hers to dictate.

It felt like marks had past and Cara had just stared, but in reality, it couldn’t have been more than a couple moments. The Mord-Sith’s voice was thick when she finally spoke. “You look well Dahlia,” she said slowly, “my sister says you are a fine teacher.”

“You asked about me?” Another triumphant grin blared out from the never-a-Mord-Sith, and Kahlan wanted to tell her that no, in fact she had not asked, Grace offered the information with no asking what so ever, but before she could make that known, Dahlia poised another question, sending another jolt of possessiveness through the Confessor. “Do you think, maybe. Would you walk with me a while?”

There was no way in the Underworld that Kahlan was going to let Dahlia walk off with Cara again… or for the first time, or whatever the Keeper this was. But fortunately, she didn’t have to figure out a way to stop that from happening.

“I have promised Grace dinner,” Cara tilted her head amenably, “we have to head out at first light, and I am not sure when I will make it back around this way again.”

“Of course,” for the first time the woman’s smile faltered a little, before bouncing back almost immediately, “the world doesn’t save itself, right?”

“You would all be dead without me,” Cara’s lip quirked in a semblance of a one-sided grin. Dahlia laughed and Kahlan had to punch down a flash of anger. This is not _that_ Dahlia she reminded herself again.

“Maybe next time then?”

Cara nodded near imperceptibly.

\-----------------------------

Kahlan climbed under the blankets while the Mord-Sith shuffled awkwardly beside her in the cramped loft trying to change into her shift. The Confessor rolled onto her back and began tracing the small colourful drawings of animals that were scattered across the low ceiling, flickering dimly in the candlelight.

“You draw these?” she asked as Cara settled in beside her.

“Some of them, probably” the Mord-Sith answered uncommittedly, pushing herself under her own covers.

“What about this one?” she pointed. “This big fluffy pink bunny has Cara Mason written all over it.”

“Unless it has an arrow sticking out of its back, I highly doubt it Confessor. You can blow out the candle now.”

Kahlan laughed and turned her head towards the blonde, eyes shining in the low light, plump lips pursed, pretending she wasn’t looking at the drawings. It always surprised her how a being as deadly as Cara could have such soft features. “Grace told me you begged your parents endlessly to let you sleep up here, and when they finally let you, you were too scared to sleep.”

“My sister has a big mouth,” Cara’s head turned towards her. “Are you going to blow out the candle, we have an early start.”

Kahlan smiled and continued undeterred. “She said to distract you, you guys would draw animals on the ceiling and tell stories about them. And that you were particularly fond of the giant pink bunny that would save the other animals and give them giant fluffy hugs.”

“You are about two seconds away from sleeping on the ground Confessor.”

Kahlan felt her body reverberate against the floor of the loft as she laughed. “Don’t worry Cara, I’ll protect you if the monster’s come.”

“ _Kahlan_.” In a flash Cara’s body was pinned over her. The extremely lowcut collar of her shift was hanging directly above Kahlan’s face as the Mord-Sith stretched, trying several times to blow out the candle before finding success. Then she was gone. Back to her own bedroll, leaving a ghost of sent and the phantom of weight tingling across the Confessor’s skin.

“Goodnight,” came a gruff voice beside her. 

Kahlan let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. It had been some time since she’d been in any kind of intimate position, and apparently her body didn’t seem to care that the position was not meant to be intimate, nor that it was Cara who was in it. She shuffled back into her pillow and sought to calm her racing pulse. 

Kahlan shifted on her side and took in the Mord-Sith’s dark form facing away from her, and her mind wandered back to the encounter with Dahlia. Wondered what Cara had felt when she saw her.

With an overly exaggerated sigh, and Cara spun onto her back, “if I tell you, will you let me sleep?”

She hadn’t realized she had spoken the question aloud, but wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity with a compliant Cara. “Of course.”

Kahlan was sure if she could make out Cara’s face in the darkness it would be reflecting deep skepticism, but she still answered.

“It felt like when you meet someone and its like you know them, but you know you have never met. But even more than that. Like something in me remembered, even though the only actual memories I have of her are of a child. It was… confusing.”

“I wanted to kill her.” Kahlan could hear Cara’s head turn. “I’ve never even seen the woman before, she probably couldn’t hurt a fly, but something in me reacted like she was dangerous.”

Cara let out an unexpected, albeit humourless laugh. “Do you think all Déjà vu is just Zedd messing with the fabric of time?”

She let out a small chuckle of her own, “maybe. Will you see her again?” Kahlan asked before she could think why. She kept her eyes focused on the ceiling, even though she couldn’t see it, nor the other set of eyes that she could feel on her.

“I don’t know why I would have a reason to,” the answer finally came and Kahlan let out another breath she didn’t remember holding. After a few moments of silence, Cara spoke again, “I’d like to leave the horses for Grace and Sirian. They could use the beasts and we will have to give them up in a few days time anyway. Away from the main trading routes, there will not be enough water for them.”

“I think that’s a great idea Cara.” She didn’t need light know the Mord-Sith had given a curt nod of satisfaction before turning back on her side.

Kahlan laid there a few moments then couldn’t resist. “If you are too scared to sleep, Grace still has your blankie.”

A long noisy breath was the only reply she was given. As sleep slowly took her, she was still grinning.

\--------------------------------

As preferable as it was to travel by horse, Kahlan was somewhat glad to be given a couple of days to readjust to travelling on foot before they loaded up on water and entered the desert. She had spent most of the last two years travelling the Midlands, often without a mount, but over a month straight on horseback had softened her a bit. It would take a few days for muscle memory to kick in. The first couple back carrying her own pack and walking for leagues, left her more tired than she had been prepared for. For once she was grateful Cara always insisted on the first watch. 

Cara, for her part, seemed fully back to her own self. Whatever happened for Cara in Stowecroft this time around, Kahlan was glad for it. Glad that Cara had been able to spend some functional time with her family. Glad that no matter what the future held, both Cara and Grace would have some memories together that weren’t tainted with pain. Kahlan had gone into Stowecroft worried for the blonde, but it turned out she may have been the one more affected by the trip.

After what had happened the last time they passed through town, Kahlan was surprise Grace had taken to her so well. But a sincere apology and a brief oration of how valued Cara had become to her, any residual frostiness dissipated, and she was welcomed into her home like an old friend. The peek she was allotted into Cara’s childhood was a gift she would always treasure, and she made sure to tell Grace as much while Cara was in the barn going through their saddlebags for anything too important to leave behind. She also told Grace she sincerely hoped she would see her and her family again someday, inviting them all the visit Aydindril once she was back home and settled.

“I would very much like that,” Grace had said, “I have never been more than a few leagues outside of Stowecroft. I can only imagine what a city like Aydindril is like.”

“Its beautiful,” Kahlan thought fondly of the Confessor’s palace, “and larger than you could imagine. It would be a pleasure to return your hospitality. Thank you again for taking us in.”

“Of course Mother Con... Kahlan,” Grace switched up when the Confessor gave her a reproachful look. “This is Cara’s home too, even if it doesn’t feel like it to her.” 

“I think it’s beginning to,” Kahlan offered. They both laughed when Cara emerged from the barn, eying them suspiciously as she stalked over to the well.

“Its funny how these things start sometimes,” Grace mused, leaving Kahlan a bit confused.

“These things?”

“When Sirian and I first met we couldn’t stand each other. He thought I was aloof, and I thought he was a hot-headed show off.”

Kahlan’s laugh quickly turned into a choke at the implications of Grace’s words. “ _What_?”

“It was unexpected to be sure. The travelling bards sing of the great love between the Seeker and the Mother Confessor,” she chuckled. “I’ll be sure to correct them next time they pass through.”

“Grace,” Kahlan could feel the heat overtaking her face as she sputtered for words. “What gave.. Cara and I, we, we aren’t,”

The short blonde’s face twisted in surprise. “Oh. I’m sorry. I thought. The way you two…”

“What has you matching the colour of my leathers?” Cara appeared, taking in Kahlan curiously before looking at her sister. “Did you try to bring up sex? You will find the Confessor is overly delicate about such matters.”

The shorter blonde curled a knowing eyebrow in her direction that looked far too much like her younger sister’s and Kahlan decided it was time to get this party moving. “We should get on the road before it gets to late.” Cara nodded her agreement, and Kahlan quickly gave the Mason sisters space to say their goodbyes.

Kahlan wasn’t sure why days later that final conversation with Grace kept coming back to her. It was only natural, she supposed, to try to understand what Grace thought she was seeing. Cara had changed a great deal from their first reunion, had become much more relaxed and open, especially around Kahlan after so much time on the road depending on each other for survival. Perhaps her sister was conflating that ease into something else. Perhaps some wishful thinking from a loving sister, wanting to see her sibling happy and settled. 

Kahlan watched the Mord-Sith amble up a steep embankment and survey the land. “We are at the last reliable water source for almost a fortnight Confessor,” she called back down, “if there is any more gear you can drop do it now. I’ll start filling the extra canteens.” Red leather disappeared over the hill, and Kahlan followed. 

Cara was kneeling on a large flat of granite next to a clear deep flowing river, rummaging in her pack. Kahlan removed her own pack and sword, and sat nearby where she began untying the waterskins she had tethered to her own bag. A long heavy bundle wrapped in beige cloth unceremoniously dropped into her lap.

“Here,” the Mord-Sith spoke formally, “the sword suits you, but you are even better with these, and they will be less of a burden in the heat.” Then she scooped up the extra water vessels and moved to the river’s edge without looking back. 

Kahlan turned the package over in her hands and remembered a similar bundle tucked under the Mord-Sith’s arm back on the day they were supposed to separate in Brennidon. She looked up at Cara again, who’s back was still firmly turned away, then began working at the strings.

When she peeled back the linen, her breath caught at what was revealed. Two long sleek daggers glistened in the midday sun. “Cara…”

“The useless man at the trading post did not have enough coin on hand for my furs, so I had to make a trade for something of equal value or take the hit,” Cara muttered in explanation without turning around. “And you needed something lighter for the desert.”

These blades were far more valuable than a few rabbit furs, and when Cara acquired them Kahlan was still intending on going to Aydindril, but if Cara didn’t want to admit she had simply gotten her a gift, Kahlan wasn’t going to push. Instead she picked one up and pulled it from the sheath. 

The metal work was flawless. The guild mark on the pommel marked them as Galean. Perfectly balanced, it felt like an extension of her arm, as if weighted just for her. But what really caught her eye was the craftmanship of the hilt. The cobalt blue stone was darker near the bottom and marbled near the top with streaks of white; silver wire wrapped around it for improved grip. “Cara they are beautiful.”

“They are _deadly_ ,” the Mord-Sith insisted, finally peeking back. Her eyes flittered over Kahlan now flipping one blade in each hand. “You will wield them well,” she said with a nod before turning back to the stream. 

“I will wield them proudly,” she replied. She began to tuck the knives into the boots that would be their new home. She wanted to say more. Tell Cara how much it meant to her. But she knew that would only serve to make the Mord-Sith uncomfortable. So she didn’t. “Thank you Cara.”

She removed her old dagger from her right boot before replacing it with the new, and then turned it in her hand. It was like an old friend. It, and its missing twin, had become one with her in a deadly dance that had saved her life more times than she could count. It didn’t seem right to abandon it on the side of the road. She watched as the Mord-Sith finished with the water and began rearranging her belongings, and decided the perfect new home for her old friend.

Cara seemed surprised to find her standing so close when she got to her feet. Kahlan smiled, knowing she actually managed to sneak up on the blonde for once. “Here,” she held out the blade to the Mord-Sith, who only looked at it. “I know you have your Agiels, but you never know when a blade could come in handy,” she shrugged, “or what if something happens to me and you lose your magic,” green eyes flashed up in a small frown, “or you could just use it for hunting.” Kahlan wasn’t sure why she was rambling. “Here,” she said again and pushed the dagger into Cara’s hands, turning quickly back to her gear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace ships it.
> 
> I have nothing to say this time except thank you again for all your support. I have been having so much fun with this.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter could be called "The Author is a self indulgent geography major who loves the desert."
> 
> I did remember to add _some_ plot.

Kahlan had never experienced anything quite like the desert before. For the first week, Cara kept them tucked as close to the eastern range as possible, where the sun would shadow behind the mountains earlier in the day, giving them a reprieve from its relentless beating heat. She said it was also easier to find water digging holes, or on tops of rocks, in the washouts carved through the foothills. 

Cara’s experience on the plain was serving them well. She seemed to be able to spot a wet patch in the soil from a dozen yards away, stride over, dig a hole, and have a small pool of water pushing up from the earth in a matter of minutes, before capturing it in a canteen to be boiled later. They travelled mostly at night, and in the early and later parts of the days. A few marks after sunrise they would take shelter in the shade of the rocks, tarping out the heat with their bedrolls to sleep, before moving again when the sun began to push over the mountains.

Kahlan had never travelled much at night, but the bright moon, combined with Cara’s assured movements made it an almost peaceful experience. Her favourite time of day however, was the evening, when the sun began to drop and seemed to stretch its light over an endless world. There was more greenery the desert than she expected but also far more shape and colour. The Confessor never imagined there were so many shades of reds and browns, rocks ranging from near white to dark as night found in the constantly changing terrain. 

“I expected more flat land and sand,” she smiled at Cara as they walked through a grove of spikey trees, who’s branches bent and twisted in all directions. She stopped a moment to take a drink of water, and enjoy the fading light dance across towering buttes in the distance. 

Cara pointed off to the north, pausing to take a drink herself. “About fifty leagues north of the People’s Palace you’ll find land as flat as paper and shimmers just as white that would take an entire day to cross. It is not hard to find water there, but you cannot drink it anymore than you could drink the ocean.” She pointed further to the east, “the sand you are looking for is that way. It rolls like the waves of the sea, but finding water is near impossible, even the salty kind. Trust me,” she said as she started to move again, “you would rather travel this way.”

Kahlan smiled at Cara’s near poetic waxing of the desert and fell in step behind her. Usually when they travelled Cara insisted on taking position at the back, in her self-appointed roll of overseeing everyone’s safety. Since they entered the Azrith plain, however, she stayed mostly in the lead, guiding Kahlan around any dangers in their path, giving the Confessor a unique opportunity to study her companion from behind.

She moved like one of the lions found in the Rang’Shada mountains. Smooth, purposeful, deadly if you crossed it. And beautiful. Kahlan couldn’t deny that. The Mord-Sith as a group were a disproportionately attractive group. That beauty only lent to accentuate the fierce authority of the uniform. 

How Cara wasn’t sweltering to death completely encased in leather was beyond her. Kahlan smiled at the sight of her dagger sheathed in the back of Cara’s belt. She knew Cara would happily live and die by her Agiels, but it brought a warm comfort to the Confessor to see her carry it.

Kahlan wiped her brow and checked the position of the sun drifting closer to the tops of the mountains. “Should we stop and eat before it starts to get dark?”

Cara looked up to the sun over the peaks and quickly dismissed the idea, “We still have a couple marks of light, we can push on a little longer. We will have to turn east before long.” 

She oddly pushed the pace for the next half mark, until they rounded a bend where the land opened into a wide valley of rolling hills that gradually descended on either side. Kahlan’s breath caught. The sun was hitting the far side of the rocky valley, where the hills appeared to be painted in all manner of colour like an artist’s pallet. Greens and pinks, purples, yellows, even blue. 

“Is this magic?” Kahlan turned in awe to the Mord-Sith who was busy digging out some dried meat from her pack like they weren’t standing in front of the most wonderous sight she’d ever seen.

“Minerals in the rocks,” Cara handed her some jerky and some dried apricots before sitting down to eat, “apparently.”

Kahlan couldn’t understand how the Mord-Sith could be so dismissive of such an incredible vista, but was determined not to waste it herself. She sat cross legged on a large bolder facing the colourful view and quietly took it in. They stayed there as the sun slowly set and danced its way across the pastel mounds, changing in hue and intensity as light and shadow played across the valley wall. 

Just as the sun dipped from view, Cara jumped up from where she had been taken a keen interest in checking the sharpness of her arrows and, without a word, began walking, now making her way east, instead of north. Apparently, it was time to begin cutting across to the People’s Palace.

“We should be at the palace in about 5 days,” the Mord-Sith announced from ahead as she carefully stepped around a pile of loose rocks and indicated to Kahlan to do the same. “The chance we cross paths with someone else will increase each day, so stay alert.”

“Yes Mistress,” she teased at Cara’s business-like tone, earning her a scowl, but then melted into a knowing smirk. 

“Good, get used to that.”

“Why,” Kahlan asked suspiciously.

“How do you think we’re going to get around unnoticed?” She could feel the smile in Cara’s voice.

Kahlan hadn’t actually thought about that at all. She had just trusted Cara had a plan and followed her lead. She supposed it made sense. The last thing that would be questioned in the People’s Palace was a Mord-Sith with a captive in toe. In fact, most people would make it their business to stay well out of the way. She knew that from her own brief stint as a Mord-Sith. She smirked and wondered what Cara would think about her ventures into the Sisterhood. 

As the night rolled on, Kahlan noted by the stars they were angling a bit back towards the south. A thrill shot through her with the realization that the hills had not been a landmark indicating it was time to head east. Cara had deliberately taken them out of the way to show Kahlan the painted valley. 

She had to fight the impulse to rush forward and throw her arms around the Mord-Sith. Instead, as the blonde briefly halted their progress to move a snake from their path, she quietly returned to her study from behind.

\---------------------

Apparently, Cara was becoming a seer, because as the sun was coming up the next morning they were blindsided by bandits. A complete coincidence, a lack of luck, that they should cross paths out in such a huge expanse of desert, both parties trying to avoid detection from the authorities on the main road. But the three surly looking men apparently saw them first and got the drop on them, literally down on them from above, as they moved through a cut in a large outcropping of rock. 

One man landed right on top of Cara, knocking her to the ground with a grunt, as the other two dropped to either side of Kahlan, boxing her in. She quickly drew her daggers as they moved in on her. She managed to spin behind and catch one man by surprise, her new blade slicing through his jugular like a hot knife through butter. His eyes didn’t even have time to betray their shock before he fell. But when she turned around, the second man was already upon her, tackling her to the ground, causing her knives to drop and skid away.

She threw a knee to his groin and quickly spun on to her stomach, scrambling for her blades. Her fingers barely grazed a bright blue handle when big hands clasped her by the ankles and hauled her back. Kahlan was violently flipped onto her back, slapped across the face, then backhanded again. She could feel his stale breath as he yelled in her face “you bitch!”

The behemoth of a man leaned all his weight on her torso then pulled a knife from his belt. Blood trickled from her lip, the metallic taste spread across her tongue as she stretched a half-pinned arm trying to find purchase on a rock, on anything she could use as a weapon. Her other hand moved to grab the sweaty wrist supporting the incoming blade, only able to hold it back a moment before her arm was slammed into the ground.

She kicked and struggled, but he was too strong. Then red leather moved in like an eclipse from behind. Agiel to the throat, a twist to the neck, and it was over. Cara shoved the man away to join his two friends to be scavenged off the desert floor. 

“Are you okay?” Cara was kneeling in front of her, hauling her into a sitting position, concerned green eyes flicking about her face.

“Yeah a think so.” Kahlan wiped the blood from her mouth and rubbed the back of her head checking for bumps, “yeah.” Cara’s face morphed into a hybrid of question and scowl.

“Why didn’t you just confess him?”

“I, I thought I could reach my weapon,” the Confessor said, feeling suddenly defensive.

The Mord-Sith stared at her a long moment before her brow twitched as if coming to some conclusion, then helped pull Kahlan to her feet. “Get your stuff,” she said shortly, “we need to find shelter away from the bodies before it gets too hot.” Then the blonde began walking again without another word.

For the next mark Kahlan followed quietly, feeling somewhat like a chastised child awaiting their punishment. Cara moved swiftly and stiffly until she found an angle of rock they could shelter under until the heat of the day passed. They quietly set up their small encampment, Kahlan quickly stringing up their bedrolls for extra protection against the heat, before sitting against the rock face.

Cara handed her a waterskin as she sat down beside her.

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to tell me why you aren’t using your power,” the blonde asked without looking at her.

Kahlan could feel herself flush, “what are you talking about? You were _with_ me in Brennidon.”

“We have also been in several skirmishes in the past month and you haven’t used it to defend yourself once.”

“I haven’t needed to. I don’t go around Confessing people just because I can, Cara,” she said defensively.

A blonde head turned towards her, “and today?” a hint of anger in her tone, “if I had been a moment longer, he would have cut your throat. You shouldn’t have even needed my assistance.”

“Well I’m sorry if helping me is such a chore for you,” she barked back and crossed her arms.

“Kahlan,” the Mord-Sith’s voice softened, “why aren’t you using your power?”

Kahlan just looked at the ground and picked at a rock. She hadn’t been avoiding it. She was going to use it on Rikka when she thought Cara was in danger. Probably.

“Is there something wrong with it?” The Confessor’s eyes came up at the sound of concern in Cara’s voice, “did… did something happen because of the bond?”

“No,” Kahlan reassured quickly with a hand on Cara’s forearm, “there is nothing wrong with my power.” The Mord-Sith looked unconvinced. “Really, Cara, I don’t even feel any weaker from when Nicci took a piece of my Han.” Kahlan felt her eye twitch at her own mention of Nicci, and saw the realization sink into Cara’s.

“This hesitation is because of Nicci. Because you felt what it was like to be confessed.”

Kahlan went back to picking her rock.

“Kahlan,”

“Is it so bad if I prefer to subdue someone before resorting to Confession?”

“It is if you end up dead in the process,” the anger was seeping back into the Mord-Sith’s tone, sparking the fight in Kahlan again.

“And what gives me the right to destroy somebody? Just because we are on the opposite sides of a war?”

“Yes. That is exactly what gives you the right. Because it _is_ war, Confessor. Dead, Confessed, it doesn’t matter, because if we lose, if Rahl wins, nobody gets to find out who they can be without him.”

“You did,” Kahlan pointed out quietly, garnering her a long sigh in return. The silence lingered on and she began to replay her short time under Nicci’s control. The overpowering need to please. The out of control devotion she felt. The crippling fear of failing threatening to take the breath from your lungs. “They are better off dead than Confessed.”

“That’s ridiculous Kahlan, they don’t even know they are Confessed.”

“You don’t know what it was like Cara!” Kahlan let her pain and anger loose. “How many people are out there right now, walking through life only knowing devotion to me. Living every moment in fear that they will somehow fail me. You can’t imagine what that’s like!”

“ _Of course I can_ ,” Cara fired back intently. Kahlan’s stomach flew into her throat at the Mord-Sith’s outburst, but when blue eyes met green, she looked completely controlled and continued smoothly. “I am Mord-Sith, I probably know more about Confessors and confession than you do.”

Kahlan turned her gaze back to the ground and suddenly there was a gloved hand on her thigh. “Do not doubt yourself Kahlan. I don’t.” She felt the sting of tears forming in her eyes as Cara went on, “you have never used your power indiscriminately. Only to protect yourself and serve your people. I mean you even pardoned _me_ for crying out loud.”

“ _Cara_ ,” her watery eyes returned to the Mord-Sith, who stopped her words with a shake of her head.

“Do you know why I chose to bond myself to you Kahlan?”

The Confessor felt the first tear escape down her cheek. “ _I have no idea_ ,” she whined painfully.

The gloved hand moved forcefully to the side of her face. “Because of _you._ Because I believe in _you_.” The blonde took back her hand, folded her arms curtly, and settled back against the rock, “so don’t stop believing in yourself now, or we’re both lost.”

Kahlan actually managed a small laugh at Cara’s suddenly grumpy tone, then threw herself into the Mord-Sith, clasping her arms around her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just stop being stupid.”

Kahlan laughed again. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she confessed against a leathered shoulder, bracing herself for the inevitable retort about dying.

“Me either.”

The reply was so quiet, Kahlan almost didn’t hear it. Her heart was in her throat again as she tried to angle her head up to get a look at the blonde’s face, but it was staring determinately ahead into nothing, so she just nuzzled back into the crook between Cara’s shoulder and chest.

After a few minutes Cara broke the silence. “You know you’re starting to make a bad habit out of this,” she said, indicating the invasive hug by bringing a hand to the Confessor’s lower back. 

“I know,” Kahlan said with a smile, but not even trying to move away.

Cara let out a huff, “perhaps we shouldn’t have left the sword on the side of the road. Had I known you’d need something to cry over, I would have carried it myself.”

Kahlan squeezed her friend tighter.

“ _Kahlan it’s hot_.”

“You can borrow my Confessor’s dress if the leathers are too much for the desert.”

“That’s not…” the Mord-Sith let out an irritable grumble, “just go to sleep Confessor.”

“Okay,” she smiled again in victory.

“Don’t you dare drool on my leathers.”

Emotionally exhausted, her already drooping eyes scrunched open and her head popped up indignantly, “I don’t drool.”

“Right. Well you can tell that to my leathers when you wake up for your watch,” the blonde said, pushing brunette hair back down. “Go to sleep.”

“I don’t drool,” she insisted again as she settle back against soft leather, feeling Cara’s chest gently jump with laughter.

\------------------

Three days from the People’s Palace, and the huge expanse of rock it was built upon was already becoming visible in the distance. Kahlan thought Aydindril was big, but if this spec on the horizon was any indication, it would pale in size to the D’haran capital.

It was still early morning, the sun only coming up a short time ago, so they would have to stop soon and shelter from the heat. Kahlan took a small drink of water, trying to ration what little she had left. It was getting harder to find the further away from the mountains they travelled, but when she worried about their supply, Cara assured her they were getting close to a source and they would make it.

They were currently moving around a huge protuberance of basalt, likely the remains of some long dead volcano. The rock towered above them in dark hexagonal columns. Yet another natural wonder Kahlan never could have imagined. 

“This way.” Cara suddenly tucked in behind the rockface. Kahlan peaked around a fold in the mass, to discover a long vertical crack that blended into the black columns. She could have walked around this feature a hundred times and never spotted it. “Come on,” a voice called from inside.

Kahlan eyed it wearily before pulling off her pack and pushing herself in. It was definitely a squeeze. At one point she had to turn fully sideways, as the passage bent, and shimmy because there wasn’t enough space to take full steps. “If I get stuck in here, I’m going to kill you.”

“If you get stuck in there, I won’t be able to get out, so don’t get stuck,” came a clip call back. 

“Thanks for your concern,” she muttered to herself. She finally pushed herself out and found herself in a large atrium of rock. An oval of tall black columns encased them in a veritable oasis. On the far wall, close to the ground, a small spring pushed out of the rockface, creating a pool of water that ran the length of the cavity and disappeared under the rocks on the other side. Large shrubs and grasses pushed out of the red earth, and a number of birds fluttered between them and the water. 

“This is amazing, how is so much water possible out here?”

Cara had already dumped her things and was kneeling at the edge of the pool, taking her fill of water. “There are aquifers that run under the entire length of the People’s Palace,” she explained, “that is how they support such a massive population. I guess there is a break in the rock, which allows the water to push through to the surface here.” Kahlan averted her eyes as Cara abruptly stood and began taking off her leathers. “I found this place in my fourteenth summer, when I was seeking shelter from the heat,” she could hear the splashing as the Mord-Sith entered the pool, her voice moving away as she spoke. “Come on Confessor, I can’t take a filthy pet into the palace with me, it would be unbecoming.”

When she looked again, Cara had moved herself to the far end of the pool, view partially blocked by a craggy looking bush. Kahlan didn’t need to be asked twice. She sat down making quick work of her dress and corset, then pulled off her boots. She put her daggers aside, smiling at the sun reflecting off the gorgeous blue stone of the handle, then quickly made her way into the water.

The pool was only about waist deep, but that was more than enough to sink in completely and let the surprisingly cool water wash over her. The reprieve from the heat was bliss, and as she submerged herself below the surface, she thought this must be where the Good Spirits went when they died. 

Kahlan began to wash a week’s worth of dust and dirt off her skin. Cara was at the far end of the pool, near where the spring poured out of the rock, completely immersed in the water but for her face peaking out. Her normally serious and ever alert features had softened into a look of pure relaxation. Once again Kahlan felt like she was being given a special peek behind the Mord-Sith armour and into the woman below. 

It hit her then. This little oasis, the painted hills, the blue stone of her daggers. The blonde enigma that was Cara had a soft spot for the beauty of the natural world. And in her own Cara way, she was sharing that with her. Her stomach fluttered at the epiphany. Kahlan slowly started pushing her way across the pool with a smile on her face, not knowing if she wanted to tease, or just be closer to her friend in light of this realization. 

Then Cara stood up, and her mouth went dry.

Frozen in place, Kahlan dipped lower, until her mouth teased the surface of the water. She had never considered herself drawn to women in such a way. Although before Richard, she had never really considered herself attracted to anyone. Taking a mate was part of duty, and such romantic notions as love and desire could only lead down a depressing path. She simply did not go there. But as she watched the rivets of water poor off the Mord-Sith’s strong back and into the pool, there was no denying the allure.

Kahlan had seen Cara naked many times before, but for the first time she _looked_ at what lived hidden beneath the full body of leather armour. Surely Cara had been sculpted. Strong muscles pulled against her shoulders; her arms defined from the rigours of a fighting life. But still there was softness. Feminine curves teasing at her hips and the swell of her back where it dipped out of view and under the water. And scars. So many scars. Of all shapes and sizes, including one particularly long one that hooked from the top of her right shoulder down across to the left side of her waist. 

But none of this marred her physique. Only served to amplify her energy. Heighten her spirit. Bring into focus everything that was Cara. Warrior, loyal, proud, determined. Beautiful. She was absolutely beautiful.

The blonde moved to where the spring broke through the rocks and dipped her head under the stream, turning around and sinking down into the pool once more. But not before giving Kahlan a full view of her front… bits. Cara’s eyes caught hers and she jerked at getting caught looking, slipping down into the water, splashing forward and sputtering back up.

“Are you alright?” Cara’s face was a mixture of amusement and confusion.

 _No._ “Yes,” she flushed and steadied herself on her knees, “it was just slippery there.” She glared down behind her as if to prove her point. 

“ _Okay_ ,” the Mord-Sith tilted her head with a befuddled smile and it was like a candle lighting up a dark room. 

Something in Kahlan cracked. Truth washed through her like a tempest.

She slowly sunk herself back into the pool with a whispered breath. “ _Bags.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I visited Death Valley a couple years ago and fell in love. I couldn't help myself. Check Artists Palette, Badwater Basin, Mesquite Flats and Zabriskie point for the visuals that were going through my mind as I wrote this. I have never seen columnar basalt in person, but it is damn cool. 
> 
> Thank you for coming to my TED Talk on the desert. We will resume our regular scheduled programming next chapter. :-P


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the People's Palace.
> 
> On the show they had the Dragon Corp, in the Books it was First File (who was the force in charge of the People's Palace), and then the regular army for wars and such. So I kept the Dragon Corp as Rahl's personal guard and am using all three. In case some wonder who the First File are.

Cara adjusted her neck guard and pulled her far too short braid tight, before lightly tugging on the rope around the Confessor’s neck and proceeding up the ramp to the imposing western entrance of the People’s Palace. Fortunately, nobody but a Mord-Sith would be likely to notice the small disparity in the uniform, because nobody but a Mord-Sith would dare let their gaze linger.

That is why she chose this far gate for their entrance point. The likelihood of any of her red-leathered sisters lingering in this quarter of the city would be slim. That is except for the one they were looking for.

As expected, the guards averted their gaze as she walked straight and determined, leveling them a menacing glance in case they dared look as they passed under the imposing marble arch of the entrance. Being home to mostly working class and tradesmen, the western side of the city did not display as much of the extravagant architecture that increased in size and grandeur as you moved towards the centre of the palace that housed the Mord-Sith quarters, the Garden of Life and Rahl’s expansive rooms, but the walls of the People’s Palace were the exception. 

Ornate marble columns and archways could be found at every entrance around the commanding fortifications, as well as thick iron gates that would take a small army to push shut if the need came. But a few minutes walk past the guard post, the buildings quickly shifted to what you would expect to see in any Midland’s city, only made of brick or stone, instead of wood.

It was only just after sunrise, but people were beginning to stir for the day. Cara gently led the Confessor around the corner, between two buildings, and glance back into the street for the all clear before speaking. “Are you okay?” She checked the spacing of the rope around Kahlan’s neck with a finger, “it’s not too tight is it?”

“For the hundredth time, I’m fine Cara,” she said with a soft smile that quickly morphed into an impish grin, “I think one of those guards wet himself though.” The Confessor reached out and pulled on one of the straps tethering the neck guard to the corset of the Mord-Sith armour, “I forgot how imposing all this looked on you.”

Cara stepped back with a cough. She was not flustered, just _, perplexed_ as to the changes in the Confessor’s behaviour the past few days. Kahlan had always been touchy, but it felt like something had shifted. She kept catching the Confessor looking at her like she was figuring out a puzzle. If Cara didn’t know better, she’d think…

She pushed back the traitorous thought before it could finish forming. She had come to terms with the roll she played in the Confessor’s life. Found a contented purpose in being a friend and protector. There was no use going down that dead-end path again. “I am always imposing,” she replied with a little tug on the rope. “Now come my pet, we must make haste before it gets too late.”

Kahlan rolled her eyes at the designation. “Yes Mistress.”

If a small spark of pleasure travelled through the Mord-Sith at the appellation, she could hardly be faulted for enjoying it.

They moved hastily for a good mark. Finally making their way past a row of shops, where smells of baked bread were already wafting in the early morning air, and down a quiet street that led to a cluster of modest homes near the wall. They then tucked in behind the shadow of a carriage, across the alley from a quaint stone cottage and quietly waited. As time passed, Cara was starting to think her target was not going to emerge. It had been well over a year since she had been stationed in the People’s Palace, a lot could have changed. But Hally had always been a creature of habit, especially when it came to the habits she enjoyed, and she did not disappoint.

It also did not disappoint that the tall blonde noticed them immediately and swaggered her way across the lane to meet them. “Cara you always have been too brazen for your own good,” she said with a grin on her face.

“And you have always been too predictable Hally, you know this weakness would be exploited and punished if the wrong Sister ever found out.”

“What can I say,” she flourished her hand in the air, “the butcher is not squeamish and has a great understanding of anatomy.”

An uncomfortable noise escaped the Confessor at her side, drawing the tall blonde’s attentions.

“Since when do you keep a pet, Cara?” Hally scrutinized Kahlan with a puzzled look, “she certainly has a presence, did you break her properly?”

Cara held up the rope in way of introduction, “Hally, meet Kahlan Amnell.”

The taller Mord-Sith’s light blue eyes went wide and she took a subconscious step backwards. “You broke the Mother Confessor?”

Cara rolled her eyes. “We’re… she’s my… we are travelling together,” she finally forced out.

“Travelling together?” Hally asked dubiously. After a cautious peak at the Confessor, she leaned in and examined Cara’s eyes. “Are _you_ Confessed?”

“Of course not Hally, do I look dead to you?” Nearby Kahlan only offered an unhelpful chuckle. “I need to speak to Berdine.”

Hally straightened with a suspicious frown. “Why do you need to take a Confessor to Berdine?”

“Creator Hally, _why_ would I want to confess Berdine?”

“I don’t know Cara, why would you turn your back on the Lord Rahl? On your sisters?” she added bitterly.

“They turned their backs on me!” The Confessor laid a hand on her arm, which unwittingly calmed her. Hally did not miss the gesture and was giving Kahlan another curious look. “Hally, its important. I need her help.” Pale blue eyes tracked back to her. “I understand circumstances have put us at odds, but I hope there is still enough trust left between us that you would know I’d not wish harm to you or Berdine.”

The taller Mord-Sith only continued to stand stoically. Cara wiped a hand over her face, “ _Creator_. I am the one taking a chance here Hally. Half the people in this city are probably dying to have my head on a spike.”

“More than half,” Hally offered dryly.

“Hally,” Cara ground out slowly, “ _please.”_

The tall Mord-Sith let out a hardy laugh and slapped Cara on the arm, “Of course I’ll help you Cara, I was just enjoying watching you beg.”

Cara scowled and chewed out, “I did _not_ beg.”

Hally ignored her and turned to the Confessor, “you know that’s the first time I’ve ever heard her say please. Not even at the end of an Agiel.” Her eyes glinted back at the shorter blonde with amusement, “the Underworld must have frozen over for the great Cara Mason to be reduced to asking for help.”

“I take it back,” Cara pulled an Agiel, “I do wish you harm.”

Hally leaned forward and kissed the tip of the humming weapon, “I missed you too.” She clapped her hands together exuberantly, “so this is probably not going to be as hard as you expected. But we should get a move on if we’re going to make it to the dormitories before morning devotions.” Then without another word, she strode off into the street.

Cara glanced at Kahlan who had a far too satisfied look on her face.

“I like her,” she grinned.

Cara rolled her eyes and followed after her taller Sister, wondering what could have possibly possessed her into thinking this was a good idea.

\------------------

Kahlan trailed behind at the end of her leash, keeping her eyes down, and her body language slumped as Cara had instructed. But even at her most humble, the Mother Confessor carried a poise about her that demanded attention. Fortunately, nobody was looking at the trailing end of the Mord-Sith’s rope. If one Mord-Sith was intimidating enough for people to stumble out of the way, two was enough to give them the entire road.

Nobody, that was, except Hally, who kept taking quizzical glances over her shoulder at the Confessor as they made their way through the city.

“So, what made you say this will be easier than I expect,” Cara asked, drawing the other Mord-Sith’s attentions forward.

Hally smirked, “things have changed,” she stroked her chin in thought, “I guess you have yourself to thank for that actually.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. A couple weeks after Lord Rahl had left the Palace to chase after the Boxes of Orden, Alina came running in claiming the Lord Rahl was dead and you had betrayed us.” The tall blonde hooked a questioning eyebrow, but Cara didn’t offer any comment. “At first nobody believed her. Our Agiels still worked after all, we could still feel the bond. Although weak, it was still there.” Hally offered a sardonic grin. “Berdine almost put Alina through a wall for suggesting you would turn your backs on us.”

Cara only stared straight ahead as they walked. She knew she would have to offer explanation eventually, but she did not want to do this twice.

Hally sighed, “anyway, as the weeks turned to months and there was no word from Lord Rahl, no triumphant return with the Power of Orden, things slowly began to fall apart. First the Dragon Corp up and went in search of him. With no Dragon Corp to keep the greater army in check, members of the First File and infantry began to desert. Riots began to spring up.”

“What about the Sisters?” Cara couldn’t help but ask.

“What do you think? We kept on like nothing had changed. The idea that Lord Rahl had failed is incomprehensible. To do otherwise would be a betrayal. It has been, _difficult_ , without direction, but we have kept vigilant, and prepared for when we are called upon again. But we did try to steer clear of the politics.”

“Politics?”

“Yes, well the city was on the verge of tearing itself apart. Then a young Captain from the First File began rallying together what remained of the troops, and helped the Guildsmen form a council of sorts to oversee running of the People’s Palace.” Hally rolled her head, “Mord-Sith are formidable, but not stupid. A few dozen of us could not hope to hold a city of a hundred thousand, so we did not try to oppose it. And it worked. Captain Meiffert restored order to the city, and it began functioning again as it should.”

Cara looked over at her Sister in disbelief. “So Darken Rahl does not hold the city?”

Hally grunted, “he didn’t. But a couple months ago almost the full ranks of Dragon Corp returned with word that the Lord Rahl lived. They relinquished the council of its control,” Cara did not have to ask what relinquished meant, “made a few examples, and restored rule in the Lord Rahl’s name.” The taller blonde rolled her eyes, “Alina has been unbearable ever since. She is certain she will rise to most favoured when the Lord returns to the Palace.”

“But he has not been here?” Kahlan asked from behind. 

Hally looked back at the Confessor as she shook her head with an odd furrow of her brow. “No, and almost as fast as the Dragon Corp moved in, they began moving out again. A couple dozen have remained to ensure nobody forgets who is in charge, but security in the city is lax. They are reliant on fear of the Lord Rahl to keep the peace,” she tilted her head knowingly at Cara, “which of course is enough for most. But will make it far easier to get you into the Sisters’ quarters, that is, as long as we don’t run into any of our Sisters.”

\--------------

The path to the complex that held the Mord-Sith’s quarters was as unguarded as Hally had indicated. Just a handful of general troops, none of the specialized guard’s that you would usually find as you moved closer to the Garden of Life. Only young unseasoned men, who would not dare to question a Mord-Sith on their boldest day. 

Hally walked ahead to make sure they didn’t encounter anyone that might recognize Cara, and they only had to duck into a small garden once, to make way for two Mord-Sith who were heading down the corridor in the opposite direction. In no time they were at the door to Berdine’s room.

“If she isn’t here, she will be at breakfast, or the Library, which would be difficult to get you to, so let’s hope she’s here.” Hally smirked and knocked, “good luck.”

Moments later the door opened and a tall brunette stood in Mord-Sith leather, minus the corset and neck guard. “Hally? Is something wrong?”

The tall blonde grinned as she stepped aside, “I have brought you a present.”

Cara took her cue to step forward and was promptly greeted to a fist to the mouth. She quickly put her hand back to stall the Confessor she knew would be charging forward in defence and licked the blood from the corner of her lip. “Mistress Berdine,” she tilted her head in greeting.

“You’re an idiot,” Berdine ran her hand over her face “get in here before somebody sees you.”

“Raina isn’t here is she?” Cara strolled in like she hadn’t just had her lip split by her host. Berdine _did_ pull the punch after all. “The Mother Confessor is a little delicate.”

“ _Mother Confessor_?” Berdine breathed out in frustration, wearily watching the leashed woman follow the Mord-Sith through the door. “Creator Mason, why can’t you be happy vying for the Lord Rahl’s favour like a normal Mord-Sith?”

Hally sauntered in from the rear and made herself at home sitting on the edge of Berdine’s bed, planting her elbow in her lap and her chin in her hand, enthusiastically watching the room.

Berdine quirked an eyebrow at her. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Not a chance in the Underworld. Besides, you’re not the only one here who deserves an explanation.”

“Fair enough,” the tall brunette reeled back to Cara, who was removing the rope leash from the Confessor’s neck. “You can start with why you betrayed us then, if I haven’t killed you, you can tell me what could possibly make you risk coming back here.”

Cara forced back her flip remark. Berdine was her Sister in more that just title, and she would have demanded nothing less had the roles been reversed.

“Last year, when we set out to help Rahl acquire the Power of Orden, we had a run in with the Seeker and his friends,” she gestured lamely at the Confessor waiting quietly behind her. “When we arrived, the Seeker was already putting together the boxes and I rushed to stop him. But when I Agieled him, it had an unintended consequence and the Seeker and I were transported 58 years into the future.”

Hally let out a little laugh of disbelief but Berdine only considered her seriously. She had spent too much of her life studying magic to discount anything.

“With the Seeker gone, and the First Wizard dead, Rahl captured the Mother Confessor,” she nodded at her again, “and produced an heir.”

“A male Confessor,” Berdine deducted, looking a shade whiter. Cara remembered her Sister’s unease when they had been ordered to Valeria, and watched her body language sag in relief when they had returned unsuccessful. While most Mord-Sith only cared about the demands of the Lord Rahl, Berdine’s studies made her more weary of the results. 

Hally frowned up from the bed, “So Lord Rahl gained everything he wanted and you decided to come back and stop it?”

“Hally, we have studied Confessors intimately, you know of the dark times. It was everything we were taught and a million times worse. Rahl’s child went mad with power. Killed both his parents before he hit puberty,” Cara made sure to lean forward with a menacing scowl, “slaughtered _every_ Mord Sith in their temple. There was nothing left but a dying world enslaved to a mad man. So when we made it back to our time, I stopped our Sisters from interfering _to prevent that future_.” Cara cracked her neck, “Darken Rahl jumped in with the Sword of Truth and tried to sever the boxes to stop the Seeker and was both killed, and tore the veil in the process. I never betrayed our sisters,” she added intently. “I did what I did _for_ you, and it cost me all I knew.”

Hally was somewhat wide eyed. Berdine sank to the bed with a whisper, “Bags.” 

Cara couldn’t deny the twinge of relief she felt that her sisters didn’t doubt her word. 

Berdine looked back up with a frown, “How did you get back to our time?”

“A witch woman told us how. We had to recreate the conditions that sent us there in the first place. Orden, Agiel,” she patted her holster then nodded again at Kahlan, “and confession.”

For the first time the brunette Mord-Sith took in the Confessor and narrowed her eyes. “She certainly has a presence.”

“That’s what I said,” Hally smiled.

“Well she does rule half the known world,” Cara offered, “she can be pretty bossy.”

“Cara,” Kahlan admonished with a swipe on the arm. 

Berdine’s brow rose at the action, but fortunately a loud bell interrupted whatever glib thing she was about to say. “Bags. Devotions.” The brunette stood up and pulled the missing pieces of her Mord-Sith armour from a large oak cabinet. “Unfortunately, I cannot miss them, my absence has been noted of late.”

“Why Berdine, have you been lacking in your duty?”

The brunette gave her a tired look while she attached her neck guard, “you are welcome to come join us for two hours of chanting for that maniacal asshole, who may or may not be alive and pursuing his own ends while his country falls apart.”

“I’m all set thanks.”

“You two wait here, and don’t answer the door.”

“What am I, new?”

Berdine leveled her a bemused gaze. “I’m glad you’re not dead.” She then tossed one more searching gaze at the Confessor and followed Hally, who was already exiting the room. 

As soon as the door was closed Cara dropped her pack and sprawled out on Berdine’s bed, sitting against the headboard. “So far so good.”

Kahlan smiled down at her proudly and it made her squirm a bit. “They’ll help us,” she declared, then her brow twitched.

“What?”

Kahlan shook her head, “probably nothing, its just. They keep looking at me.”

Cara loosed a curt laugh, “well its not every day a Confessor waltzes into the heart of the People’s Palace.”

“I know.” She removed her pack and sat down on the opposite edge of the bed. “ **B** ut, I don’t know if this makes any sense, but,” she ran her fingers through her hair, “I can feel it. When they stare. With my whole body.”

“They _are_ Mord-Sith. We have the soul penetrating gaze down to an art.”

Kahlan smiled a little at that, as she traced the seems of her pack with her finger. “I’ve encountered Mord-Sith before and its not felt like this. It’s like… undulating. You don’t think, and this is probably crazy and impossible, but, you don’t think it could be the bond could it?”

Cara sat up straighter. “The bond?”

The Confessor shook her head, “it’s silly. I don’t know why I thought that.”

With Zedd’s magic, nothing seemed crazy to Cara. “Well, what do you feel when _I_ look at you?” That drew a steady blue-eyed gaze. For a moment she just stared. And Cara felt like she was drowning.

Kahlan finally broke the gaze, and went back to tracing patterns on her pack, “that’s different.”

“Why?” The question came out a little breathier than Cara had intended. 

“It just is,” the Confessor responded, still dutifully looking away. “I, I care about you, and we’re… friends.”

Not for the first time Cara felt like she was missing something and wished she was better at navigating the emotional jungle that was Kahlan. “You could always ask the wizard what he thinks. It’s his magic and it would not be the first time he overshot his intentions.” 

That brought Kahlan’s eyes back to her, “you would be okay with that?”

Cara frowned. “Why would I care?”

“I don’t know, it seems kind of personal.”

“I am not embarrassed of my decision Kahlan,” her brow twitched unwittingly, “but if you are, feel free to phrase your inquiry without mentioning yourself.”

“Of course I’m not,” the Confessor’s hand swatted at her knee. She began rummaging through her pack for the journey book and the small bowl and quill to write with, before making herself comfortable beside Cara against the headboard of the bed. By this time the Mord-Sith had already removed her glove and made a small slice in the palm of her hand.

Kahlan rolled her eyes. “I could have done that.”

“You are in the heart of enemy territory Confessor,” she said as she let her blood drip into the small bowl, “you must keep your strength up.” She looked around for a place to wipe her hand, and considered the quilt. It’s not like it would be the first time Berdine had blood in her bed. 

Kahlan handed her a small cloth. “And a couple spoons of blood would put me in a coma?”

Cara just smirked as Kahlan found the last clean page in the book. “There is a message from Zedd. He says he should reach Aydindril tomorrow. And Richard is at the Palace of the Profits. He has sent him the exact wording of the Prophecy to help him in his research, and now he and some Sisters of the Light are digging through their archives to see if they can find anything to help.”

Cara just grunted her acknowledgement. She didn’t really care all that much about their dive into prophecy. She knew Berdine was the only one who could give her the answer _she_ needed.

She laid her head back and closed her eyes, dozing slightly while the Confessor’s pen scratched away. It was strange being back here, but also still felt familiar. 

Each of the Mord-Sith quarters were identical. Simple rooms, wooden floors, with a comfortable bed, a large cabinet and small nightstand. This was attached to another small room with a tiled floor and a bath. And of course, there were the chains hanging from the ceiling in both.

She hadn’t noticed the Confessor had finished writing until she spoke. “I told Zedd we made it to the Palace and it was looking promising that we would find help. Then explained what I was feeling and inquired if it would be possible that the bond between us be felt by the other Mord-Sith.”

Cara grunted again, still relaxing against the headrest. The silence lingered on for a while more before the Confessor asked, “Did you have a room like this?”

“They are standard quarters. My room was one hall over, though I am sure it has been reassigned by now. Or burned,” she said with a smirk.

“Oh.”

That brought the blonde’s eyes open, and she followed Kahlan’s gaze right to the chains tied up near the ceiling at the end of the bed. “They are used during breakings,” she offered in quiet explanation, “or sometimes punishment.”

She could see the brunette head nodding softly out of the corner of her eye. An unexpected wave of abashment passed through the Mord-Sith. She was not _exactly_ ashamed of her past, but she felt exposed. Kahlan wasn’t stupid. She knew what Mord-Sith did, what Cara had once done. But sitting beside her in a room where those things had happened was disquieting. She didn’t like to think about this part of her past, but she found even more she didn’t like it being rubbed in the Confessor’s face.

Cara stared at her feet and suddenly wished her hair was down so she could tuck behind the curtain of blonde. “I am sorry you have to see that. I know it disgusts you.”

“It doesn’t.”

Cara scoffed.

“It doesn’t Cara.”

The Mord-Sith continued to inspect her boots. “I have caused a lot of pain in chains just like those Confessor. Done things that would make you wretch.”

“And had things done to you that would do the same,” Kahlan added quietly.

Cara did not offer a response to that.

“I know you think I hate this part of you Cara, but I don’t.” Cara felt her head twitch. “I won’t lie. Part of me wants to. Part of me wants to wish away all this pain. Wish those things that bent you to this life never happened. But I can’t. Because if I take away that,” Kahlan gestured towards the chains, “then it takes away this.” Cara’s head was suddenly pulled around by the jaw forcing her to look into stormy blue eyes. “And a world without _this_ would be unacceptable.”

Kahlan’s fingers were lightly teasing Cara’s neck behind her ear as she held her with her gaze. Cara’s chest tightened, swallowing past a lump in her throat. Then the sound of the door unlatching cut through the room and they were both on their feet with weapons drawn.

Berdine strode into the room with Hally in tow, “Glad to see you haven’t gone soft.” The tall brunette gestured with her head, “nice braid by the way.”

Cara scowled as Berdine leaned against the wall and folded her arms. “You were telling me what the Keeper you are doing here.”

She spread her arms and grinned wickedly, “to help me kill Darken Rahl of course.”

“I thought you said he died,” Hally asked with a tilt of the head from where she had taken up position on the opposite wall from Berdine. 

“He did, then he used dark magic to return. But he doesn’t have any power, and he doesn’t control the bond.”

“Then who does?” asked Berdine, patting her Agiel, “it obviously still exists.”

“Richard, the Seeker.” Two sets of Mord-Sith brows rose at that, as Cara continued trying to keep the bitterness from her tone. “But he has no desire to claim his birthright.”

“So we’re free?” The hope in Hally’s voice was palpable. 

“For now.” Cara turned back to Berdine. “You know better than anyone that Richard not seizing the bond leaves it vulnerable, that is if Darken doesn’t just kill him.”

Berdine shook her head. “But if Rahl has no power, he cannot command the bond.”

“That is why we would like your help,” Kahlan finally spoke up and Cara deferred to her lead. It could only serve their cause if her Sisters could find trust in the Confessor. “Darken Rahl has a powerful sorceress as his captive. She has acquired the Han of an unknown number of sorceresses and wizards, is proficient in dark magic, and is possibly the most powerful person to walk the earth, well ever. We are trying to find him and stop him before he can find a way to take her power. Cara thought perhaps you would be able to give us direction.”

“I don’t have to tell you the first thing Rahl will do when he gets his magic back will be to reclaim the bond,” Cara added solemnly. “She also has the ability to confess.”

Berdine did not try to hide the fear that sent through her. “How the Keeper did _that_ happen?”

“The sorceress, Nicci,” Kahlan recounted, “showed up at the Pillars of Creation when we were trying to seal the vail to the underworld. She stuck a Dacra in me and absorbed enough of my Han to confess me. Cara killed her in an attempt to release me, but when we were off dealing with the veil, Rahl snuck in with some Mord-Sith and revived her.”

“Attempt?” Berdine asked observantly, ignoring the pertinent part of the sentence.

“Yes well,” Kahlan look side eyed at Cara, “instead of releasing me I went into the Con Dar.”

“You guys are fun.” An enthralled Hally pushed off from the wall, “what happened next?”

Cara rolled her eyes but, perhaps in the name of getting the two women onside, Kahlan continued. Thank the Creator she skipped the part about Cara being unable to release her arrow into the Confessor.

“I stormed off after Richard. He had the Stone of Tears and it could revive my Mistress.” Cara raised her eyebrows at the Confessor wondering if she would go through with the rest of the tale. She did. “By the time I reached him he had handed the Stone of Tears over to the Keeper in the guise of a child, and the Keeper had returned to the underworld. Enraged I tried to confess him, but that failed, so I drove my daggers into his chest.”

“You forgot the part where you took out a dozen Sister’s of the Dark in your blood rage,” Cara added flatly, receiving an eyeroll for her trouble. 

Hally was all out grinning now. Berdine listened thoughtfully.

“When I realized I killed Richard, I came out of the Con Dar. Cara arrived and brought him back with The Breath of Life.”

Cara thought about riding up to find Kahlan crying over Ricard’s body and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. “By then the Confessor leaked out a new Stone of Tears, the Seeker closed the veil and the world was saved, the end,” she finished bluntly.

“Look at our little Cara all grown up and saving the world,” Hally tilted her head in affection.

Cara shook her head.

“Well I guess that confirms this Seeker of yours is a Rahl,” Berdine added thoughtfully.

Cara frowned, “what makes you say that?”

“He can’t be confessed. The Rahl bloodline protects him.”

Kahlan was shaking her head. “Darken Rahl took a potion to make him immune.”

Berdine laughed once. “Lord Rahl is nothing if not paranoid. He actually took three potions and performed a ceremony under the full moon involving covering himself in Shadrin blood and rosemary. But it was all probably useless. If there really was something as simple as a potion to block confession, I am sure anyone with enough coin would be taking it. Alric Rahl built it into the foundation of the bloodline. As far as I know it is the only thing that has the capabilities to block a Confessor’s power.”

The frown on the Confessor’s face threatened to cut into her brain. “Zedd told us it was Richard’s love for me that protected him from confession.”

“Zeddicus the wizard?” Berdine asked.

Kahlan nodded.

“Well, a Wizard of the First Order may very well know things I do not. I have not come across such a thing in my studies, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. But I do know the protection of the bloodline does.”

Kahlan looked defeated. Cara pounded down the jealousy that was burning through her. Obviously Kahlan was not as over her feelings for Richard as she had proclaimed. Obviously what had just passed between them was only a friend offering comfort. She cursed her damned _feelings_ for letting her believe otherwise. “Don’t worry Confessor,” she said flatly, “I have spent enough time on the road victim to the Seeker’s sappy doe-eyed puppy love to know how deep his devotion to you runs. Regardless of why you can’t confess him,” she assured, “he is yours.”

Oddly the Confessor didn’t look comforted.

“Well the fabled love of the Seeker and Confessor aside,” Berdine interrupted, “I assume you want my help figuring out how Rahl is going to get this Nicci’s power.”

“Yes,” Cara tore herself back to the matter at hand. “Rahl get’s all his ideas from you Berdine. Even if he wasn’t an idiot, the man could never tear himself away from his bed long enough to pick up a book. Whatever he is doing, he didn’t come up with it on his own.”

“Aww, you flatter me.”

“Will you help us?”

“You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t already know I would, Cara.”

Cara finally smirked, “I thought you might enjoy taking something from him for once.” 

A shadow passed over Berdine’s eyes as she nodded. “I may already have an idea of what he might try. Rahl was considering many avenues to acquire power before settling on Orden. There was an ancient spell the old wizards used to gain their powers back when man had none.”

“Too bad they succeeded.” Cara couldn’t help the commentary.

“Indeed. At the time Rahl dismissed it because he both feared it, and frankly there was nothing around with enough power to satisfy his demand.” Berdine rolled her eyes, “although he did briefly consider a red dragon.”

“Oh, I would have loved to have seen that,” Hally piped in.

Berdine rolled her eyes again but continued, “it could take me a while to find the information on this. It has been a couple years and I’ve easily looked at a thousand books since then, in a dozen different languages.”

“I could help,” Kahlan offered, “I know many languages.”

Berdine considered the Confessor then nodded, “I could probably get you into the library as an assistant if we dress you in peasant garb. Those travelling leathers are too conspicuous.” She looked back to Cara, “Sorry but it is the one place in the city still under heavy guard. Somebody would recognize you for sure.”

Cara glanced at Kahlan who’s eyes only reflected confidence. She didn’t like the idea of separating but she knew the faster they were done in this city the better. She turned to her other sister. “I trust we can count on you to not interfere with this?”

“Interfere?” Hally barked out a laugh, “as far as I’m concerned you can sign me up for the next quest.”

Cara rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back a smirk. She would never say it out loud but she missed her younger Sister’s antics. “I will settle for you taking me to meet this Captain that held the city together in Darken Rahl’s absence. Perhaps he can prove useful again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, did I just possibly close the Confession love-loophole? oops.
> 
> Also for those of you out there who haven't read the books Captain, later General Benjamin Meiffert eventually became Cara's husband. Just so you know how ominous the introduction of that character should be. :-P
> 
> You didn't really think I was going to make this easy did you?


	16. Chapter 16

“Who is this?”

“That is not your concern soldier.” The menace in the Mord-Sith’s voice sent a chill through Kahlan. Cara’s Sisters had been almost welcoming and even playful upon their arrival, and apparently she had forgotten the part where they were amongst the deadliest women in the known world. 

Berdine had dispensed an array of intimidating tactics to get them through the small army of guards that lined the halls to the library, including flat out backhanding one when he stepped forward to question them, then walking right over his prone body.

“I can’t allow just anybody into the library,” the burly guard continued.

In a flash Berdine had her Agiel out, only a finger’s width from pressing into the man’s neck. “Forget the appellation again and the library will be the least of your concerns.”

The man who was easily twice as large as the Mord-Sith suddenly looked like a cowering child. “I am sorry Mistress Berdine, I meant no disrespect. But you know that I can’t just let anyone in there.”

“She is not just _anyone_ you idiot. She speaks a language thought to be extinct and I have spent the last two weeks making her _compliant_ so I can decipher an ancient text before the Lord Rahl’s return. Don’t tell me I have to spend the next week making _you_ compliant so I can get her past the damn door!” The tall brunette leaned right into the man’s face, “though I suspect it wouldn’t even take a day.”

“No Ber, Mistress Berdine, please,” the man stepped aside from the entrance, “I was only trying to do my job.”

Without another word Berdine pushed through the ornate double doors to the library and Kahlan followed. When they were shut behind them Berdine turned back with a bright smile, “idiot.”

Kahlan blinked at the sudden change. The Mord-Sith truly wore their masks as smoothly as Confessors. Then her eyes fell upon the sight before her. It rivalled the library in the Wizard’s Keep in size. But where the Keep was utilitarian, endless rows of shelves carved right into the rock of the mountains, the entire People’s Library was a tribute to the history of D’hara. More wood could be found in this room than she had seen in the entire city. 

Towering mahogany shelves that seemed to extend a league in every direction, exposed oak beams in the vaulted ceilings, between which displayed an array of paintings of D’hara and the history of its people, dragons and other creatures of magic. “It’s beautiful,” Kahlan breathed. “How are we ever going to find anything in here?”

“History of the magics,” Berdine explained as she led them down one of the aisles, “are organized by era, which doesn’t really help when an era can extend for several aisles. But fortunately, anything found that is particularly powerful is moved into another room for added protection.”

Kahlan thought that did sound helpful until they rounded a corner and the room turned out to be nearly the size of the petitioning hall in the Confessor’s Palace. Berdine placed her hand on the door and there was a humming sound as it swung open. 

“Lord Rahl had it spelled. There are only a handful of people who can enter.” She held out her hand, “you will have to take my hand to get through.” She took it without hesitation and Berdine pulled her through the shield, then considered her a moment before striding off down the room. “You are awfully trusting to follow a Mord-Sith through the People’s Palace. You realize how easy it would have been to walk you right into a room full of guards or Sisters and taken you as my pet.”

“I trust Cara, and Cara trusts you,” she replied following Berdine through the maze of stacks.

“Cara knows better than anyone you cannot trust a Mord-Sith.”

Kahlan smiled softly, “she said that. But she also said that in your case that is only true if Darken Rahl held the bond.”

“And you believe that?”

“Like I said, I trust Cara, and she trusts you. She told me how you saved her life when you were younger.”

Berdine stopped suddenly and shot a disbelieving look over her shoulder. “ _Cara_ admitted to that?”

Kahlan’s smile grew wider as she nodded, “yes, and I get the impression that was not the only time you’ve looked out for each other.” 

Berdine hummed uncommittedly then smirked, “are you sure you haven’t confessed her?”

“I almost did, a couple times,” Kahlan admitted as they began moving again. “When we first met, I wanted nothing more than to kill her.”

“Yeah she has that affect on people.”

Kahlan laughed, “you know you’re pretty brave too, walking off alone with a Confessor bent on finding information.”

The red-clad brunette grinned, “I trust Cara and Cara trusts you.” Berdine stopped again. “It should be somewhere around here. I remember this one from around the same time.” She trailed her finger along the binding of a large green book. “An annoying derivative of some useless Profit claiming a dark god would walk the earth in the body of a man.” 

The Confessor raised her brow as Berdine began pulling volumes off the shelves. “You have books of prophecy here?” Perhaps they could find something on Shota’s warning.

Berdine laughed, “thousands of them, if you’re up for wasting your life away.”

“You don’t believe in prophecy?”

“Oh, some of its true, to be sure. But even if you could wade through the mountains of false prophets or dead forks, to find a true one, they almost never reveal what they mean until after the fact. That is how they are designed. Completely useless in all practicality.” She handed a few books to Kahlan and rolled her eyes, “Lord Rahl loved trying to invoke prophecy. I would be happy throwing the whole lot of the cursed things in the fire.” 

Kahlan hummed, “there was a prophecy when we were trying to close the rift to the Underworld. _As long as the Mother Confessor’s pure heart beats the Keeper is doomed to fail.”_

“Well your heart is still beating and the Keeper failed, so I am sure that vague piece of information was super useful in your quest.”

The Confessor smiled again. She enjoyed Berdine’s straightforward honesty. “When we were at the Pillars and I went into the Con Dar, Cara had an opportunity to kill me and revive me with the Breath of Life to bring me out of it. But she didn’t. By then Richard had given the Stone of Tears to the Keeper. If I hadn’t still been in the Con Dar, I wouldn’t have killed him, and then would not have made a new stone. The Keeper would have won.”

“See, useless,” Berdine confirmed, “nobody short of the profit who gave it would have discerned those words.” She smirked suddenly, “Mistress Cara couldn’t kill a Confessor? I can’t wait to hold that one over her head.”

Kahlan blanched a little. “She is going to kill me for telling you that.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Berdine replied, clearly amused with herself.

“There is a prophecy possibly to do with what we are facing. Zedd and Richard are currently chasing down what it might mean, to try and figure out how stop Rahl.”

The Mord-Sith grunted as she led them to a small table not far away and sat down, placing her stack of books in front of her. “Well I can save you some time. Bad things will happen if you don’t stop the bad man. Cara was right to come here. You could spend a life time studying prophecy and never come out with a concrete answer. She tapped a stack of books as Kahlan sat across from her, “it may take some time, but we will figure this out.”

For the next several marks they skimmed through book after book, making several trips back to the shelves for more. Kahlan almost wished they were not pressed for time so she could take in these volumes more intimately. Some of them were written in languages of smaller tribes of the Wilds and magical creatures, alluding to a time when they had more influence in the world. Some of the artifacts and spells she had never heard of and were extremely interesting as well, including one where the spell would produce wings like a butterfly so you could take flight. She could not picture Darken Rahl with butterfly wings. But she could see why Berdine enjoyed this so much. Perhaps she would have to start spending more time in the Keep. You know, when they make it back to Aydindril. One day.

She took a peek up at the Mord-Sith plowing her way through volume after volume. It still took her aback a little that she was here, sitting in the middle of the People’s Palace, with a Mord-Sith, researching to permanently take down the Lord Rahl. 

Not for the first time Kahlan felt some amount of shame for her life long perceptions of the Mord-Sith. She supposed that wasn’t completely her fault, and on many levels warranted. They did go to great lengths to project a certain image to the world. And had been harbingers of violence and death for centuries. 

But on the other hand, it would make sense that deep down these women who were taken, tortured and imprisoned to a life of pain would jump at a chance to rail against it. And that they would seek comfort in any relationship they could find that offered something to the contrary. The bond between these women ran as deep as any family. And Kahlan was overcome with the urge to reaffirm it.

“She never forgot you, you know.”

The blue eyes of the Mord-Sith rose up in question.

“Cara. Every Mord-Sith we pass accuses her of turning her back on you, but she never did. I can’t tell you how many hours she spent arguing with Richard trying to convince him to claim his birthright. At first, I didn’t understand why she would want to come back here, but that was just my own prejudice. I get it now. She hoped if Richard would take the throne it would free you all from Rahl’s influence, and give you your own lives. I think that was the whole reason she chose to travel with us in the beginning, why she defended him so fiercely.” And why she ultimately gave up and severed the bond, she thought. Berdine only considered her with a penetrating gaze, so she added, “I can tell how much you mean to her by the way she speaks of you.”

“And I can tell how much you mean to her by the fact she _does_ speak of me.” The Mord-Sith offered a crooked smile, “how did that even happen?”

“Very slowly,” Kahlan conceded. “Hally and Rikka were the others in the desert?”

“How can you tell?” Berdine nodded.

“We’ve encountered dozens of Mord-Sith on the road and Cara has never shown the level of ease she has with you three. You obviously have a deep bond.”

“You met Rikka?”

Kahlan nodded, surprised not to get the usual “Mord-Sith don’t care” party line. Cara hadn’t been lying when she said Berdine was different. 

“You poor bastard. Those two are like annoyingly stubborn twins. They have been trying to one-up each other since we began our training as children. Cara practically beat Rikka unconscious to get her to stay with us after that rain storm, and I sometimes think it was only because Rikka had taken her down in a recent combat session and Cara refused to let her die having bested her.” Berdine had a fond smile as she recounted the tale. “They are both idiots and would probably walk off a cliff just to prove they are stronger than the other. But Rikka never forgot Cara saved her life that day, and when it comes down to it, they will always have each other’s back.”

“And Hally?”

“The little sister that constantly pushes and pries on everyone’s nerves. She is several summers younger than the rest of us and deferred to our judgement without question. It was her first time left in the desert and I don’t think she was prepared for the level of punishment we received for daring to stay alive. I think we all felt a little guilty about that and looked out for her after. Maybe too well, because now she doesn’t know how to shut up.”

“Mord-Sith feel guilt?” Kahlan teased.

“Only us less evolved Mord-Sith.”

“So, what about you then? Does that make you the mom?”

Berdine laughed, “it certainly feels like it sometimes. 

\--------------

Several marks and dozens of books later, they still hadn’t found what they were looking for. Both bleary-eyed, they would continue the search tomorrow. Now they sat in one of the many public dining halls that were scattered about the Palace to feed the massive number of servants and soldiers it took to run the place, waiting for Hally and Cara. Berdine had assured that no Sister’s came to this hall. Being in the servant’s quarter, none had business nor desire to visit this end of the structure. Berdine came here whenever she needed a break from the politics and ladder climbing, and wanted a meal in peace.

They had just sat down when Cara and Hally appeared across the room speaking with a tall, handsome man dressed in the uniform of the First File. Likely the Captain Meiffert who they had gone off to get a feel for that morning. Cara was interested to see if he would be willing to pull the city together again if they were successful in stopping Rahl. An unstable D’hara would serve no one. If they descended into civil war, countless would die and it would threaten to spill over in to the Midlands.

The Captain was a muscular man, with short blonde hair and the piercing blue eyes which seemed to be a common trait around the People’s Palace. What wasn’t so common was the way those eyes were boring into Cara like she was a Good Spirit come to life.

Hally was grinning. Cara’s features were schooled, but her body language was relaxed. And when the man nodded what appeared to be a goodbye, the corners of the Mord-Sith’s mouth softened almost imperceptibly. But Kahlan could see it. Could feel the difference with her entire body. For the first time Kahlan could understand the appeal of grasping an Agiel. Anything to distract from the wave of jealousy crushing through her at this moment.

A few days earlier, like a bolt of lightening everything clicked in to place, and exactly what Cara meant to her exploded through her in a hot white flash of realisation. Honestly, for somebody who was suppose to see the truth in everything, it was kind of embarrassing that she hadn’t seen such a blatant reality sooner. But there were distractions. Richard and quests and duty, _and Richard_. And considering how she and Cara started, how slowly their friendship had snuck up on her, it wasn’t hard to believe that these deeper feelings had done the same.

But they had. Cara had quietly seeped her way into every crack and crevasse in Kahlan’s existence. She was brave and loyal and funny and so so smart. 

Beautifully relentless.

An ever-steady rock to cling to in the river.

And every time Cara opened up and shared a piece of herself, Kahlan had sunk deeper. Each new fragment of the Mord-Sith melded itself to Kahlan’s heart, and was now impossibly, irrevocably part of it.

And, after days of reflection, Kahlan was nearly certain the devoted blonde felt _something_ too. With Cara it _was_ hard to tell. She had always kept her cards close to her vest, and her emotions even closer. With her Mord-Sith training, that commitment to, and almost _need_ for duty had literally been broken into her. But there was something there. There _had_ to be. Her protectiveness, her vigilance. The woman literally bonded herself to her for crying out loud.

Regardless, earlier that morning Kahlan had found the courage to find out for sure. Had they not been interrupted, lost in Cara’s sea green eyes, she _would_ have kissed the woman. She would not have been able to stop herself. But the other Mord-Sith had returned from devotions and sadly it was probably for the best. 

Berdine’s declaration that the Rahl bloodline had protected Richard from confession, instead of his love, was like ice water being poured over her soul. Not because of Richard, but because of what it meant for Cara. Kahlan could not ask her to cross that line. Could not ask her to see where this thing between them could go. Not if it could only end in confession. 

Some of her feelings must have been showing on her face, because when Cara sat down across from her, she was frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Kahlan forced a smile, “it was just a long day.”

“Did you find anything?”

“No, but we will,” she assured. “How did it go with the Captain? I assume that was him?”

“Not as well as the Captain would have liked,” Hally said with a mischievous grin.

Cara shot her a scowl and Kahlan had to fight back one of her own as a serving girl arrived and placed bowls full of rice and beans in front of each of them. “It went well,” she said after the girl had moved away. “Without the bond to enforce his will, and his constant absence for the last year, Rahl has lost his stranglehold on power. Captain Meiffert doesn’t think it will be hard to gather support to hold the city. He says the arrival of the Dragon Corp caught them off guard and many believe was a prelude to Rahl’s imminent return. But that never happened, and the natives are restless.”

“Would the Dragon Corp give up if they are met with resistance?”

“Not a chance,” Berdine offered. “They are even more fanatical than Mord-Sith. We were taken from a normal life. Broken into devotion. Dragon Corp are raised to be so from infants. Lord Rahl’s personal guards know nothing of life but complete devotion and service to him. He is equal to a god in their minds and they will fight and die to a last man in his name.”

“How many are there exactly?” Kahlan asked

Berdine scratched her brow, “hard to say with all the fighting the last couple years. Maybe a thousand. But their entire lives have been spent in combat training. One Dragon Corp is equal to dozens of soldiers.”

Kahlan hoped Aydindril was aware of the threat looming in the north. The sooner Zedd arrived with the journey book, the better. “And the Mord-Sith, where would they stand?”

“We serve the Lord Rahl.”

“Ya, I can see that.” 

Berdine smirked. “If the Sisters truly believe Darken Rahl is dead, they could go either way. I think many would slip away and wait for the new Lord Rahl to make himself known, and similar to now, carry on in a way they believed would please him when he arises.”

“But with Darken Rahl dead you’d be free,” Kahlan argued.

“Mord-Sith are like any other people,” Berdine replied. 

Hally scoffed. 

“ _We are_ ,” she affirmed. “We may appear a homogenous group, but you will find all spectrum of personalities. A few truly enjoy the power _and_ the way we wield it. They would actively seek out a purpose that celebrates it. Others might seek a purpose they deem worthy.” Her eyes flickered to Cara. “And a few might even give it all up to live in a cottage in the woods. But in the end, all of us are broken, broken to serve, and the bond is a powerful thing Mother Confessor. If you have never been punished with it, you cannot understand.”

Kahlan glanced around at the three leather-clad women. Cara was looking at Berdine with the most understanding she’d ever seen on the blonde’s face. Hally was looking at her bowl, pushing some rice around with her fork. 

“Well,” she said quietly, “I fully intend on finding Rahl and sending him back to the Keeper. So maybe once he’s gone for good, you and your Sisters will find the courage to take the step to find out what category you fall in to.” Kahlan took a sip of water and smiled to herself, “Though I think perhaps for you two its obvious.” 

When she looked up again all three women were staring at her, and again she felt that odd push and pull she experienced whenever the Mord-Sith focused on her. Berdine was considering her seriously. Hally was grinning again. Not even years of torture seemed to have beaten the ball of sunshine out of that woman. And Cara. Cara would be unreadable but for the tiny curl in the corner of her lip. Kahlan suddenly felt herself flush in embarrassment.

She wasn’t lying when she said it was different when Cara looked at her. She had felt a deep connection to her for so long, whatever this was going on with the other Mord-Sith, the feeling didn’t compare. Perhaps that should have been her first clue of her feelings. Now that she was aware, it was only stronger. 

Breath stealing.

And right now, Cara was staring at her, and she couldn’t look away.

But she had to. She couldn’t encourage this, _this._ It would be beyond unfair. It already would be asking so much of Cara. To bind herself to life as the Mother Confessor’s mate. Especially as a Mord-Sith. It would not be an easy road for her. There would be obligation. There would be push back. And Kahlan _was_ bound to continue the line of Confessors. But Cara understood duty better than anyone, and she was convinced the blonde could weather the expectations.

Kahlan herself was ready to push back on some of the expectations of her position, starting with the so-called appropriate mate to a Confessor. But not like this.

She could not risk confession. Not Cara. Not ever.

She forced her eyes away and looked to Hally with another artificial smile. “So the young Captain has a soft spot for Cara does he?”

The younger Mord-Sith grinned slyly, “oh most definitely. I am certain he would conquer D’hara on her request alone.” 

Kahlan could see Cara roll her eyes out of the corner of her own.

“He was practically begging her to join him for training tomorrow. But Cara left him hanging,” Hally smirked at Cara. “Not until he’s begging, right Mistress?”

Cara was about to retort but Kahlan cut her off. “You should go.”

Her blonde head snapped to her. 

“It can only help to build trust if we are going to work with him.” Kahlan reupped her still forced smile. “And he is very handsome.”

Kahlan could of sworn the corner of Cara’s eye twitched, but she nodded her assent and went back to her meal.

\------------------

“I’ll put you two in Raina’s room for the night.” Berdine peaked around the corner to make sure the hall was clear of Mord-Sith, before gesturing them to follow. “Its only a few down from mine and nobody would dare go in there.”

“Where is Raina anyway?” Cara asked with a teasing smirk. “She should know better than to let you run around unchecked for so long.”

Berdine stopped at the door and her face settled into an unreadable mask. “Before Lord Rahl left the palace in search of the Boxes he ordered her to a temple in the north. She has been there ever since.”

Cara stared at her a long moment, then followed Berdine into the room. Kahlan came in last but before she could shut the door Berdine was exiting again, her body language ridged. “I’ll go get your packs.” 

Kahlan sat down on the edge of the bed in the identical room to the one they had been in that morning, but for a black quilt, instead of the brown that was on Berdine’s bed. Before she could inquire about Raina, a thump at the door took Cara’s attention. Kahlan pulled her daggers as Cara cautiously peaked out. She relaxed and rolled her eyes, and Hally came stumbling in with two buckets of water. 

“If you want more, get it yourself. Whoever designed this place is an idiot.” She took the two buckets into the small attached room, then brushed herself off. “I swear the whole reason Mord-Sith started taking pets was so they didn’t have to draw their own baths.”

Cara smirked, “why do you think I took every assignment I could in the Temples and away from this cursed place.”

Hally knowingly grinned back, “Yeah, we all know of your love of the baths Cara.” Kahlan immediately felt her face heat. The rumours of the Mord-Sith baths were the stuff of legend. “And Alina told us of your self-imposed rule of the Temple after Rahl died. I can’t say I didn’t appreciate your vision.”

Cara scowled as Berdine re-entered the room baring their packs. She looked at them in question. “What’s going on?”

“We were just discussing Mistress Cara’s love of the Temple baths,” Hally explained with her never ending smile.

Berdine rolled her eyes, “yes well we don’t have that much time before evening devotions. Let’s go make ourselves seen so nobody questions where we’ve been.”

Hally huffed in exasperation, but made for the exit. 

Berdine nodded at Kahlan then to Cara, “if you need anything, well too bad. I’ll come get you in the morning after the droning.”

When they were gone, Kahlan turned to Cara and hooked an amused eyebrow. Cara scowled and looked away. “There is nothing wrong with enjoying a hot bath,” she muttered as she made her way into the side chamber and immediately began pulling off her leathers. “Is it a crime to prefer not bathing out of buckets or cold streams.”

Kahlan’s laugh died in her throat as red leather pealed away to once again reveal Cara’s strong back. She forced her eyes down and began digging through her pack for the journey book. Kahlan made herself comfortable back on the bed, only to be once again distracted by the blonde. She had moved further into the room, but by the arm and leg and _hip_ she could see, the woman was now completely naked. 

Cara bent down to dip a cloth in one of the buckets and Kahlan was most definitely not _leaning_ to better see. She was simply stretching her neck after a long day hunkered over in the library. She rolled her eyes at herself. This was not becoming of a Confessor. She was trained to handle this sort of thing. 

Kahlan almost swallowed her tongue as Cara took a slight step to the left and further into view. She brought the cloth over her shoulder and a trail of water descended down her back, over her hip, and across the curve of her ass. “Okay, maybe not _this,”_ she mumbled to herself, then forced herself to turn around. 

She gave her head a shake and maybe a little more forcefully than necessary, opened the journey book. She found the end of the entries and Zedd had definitely seen her message.

_Bags! She did WHAT?! Of all the reckless… No wonder she was in so much pain, a Mord-Sith’s magic bonding to a Confessor’s, she probably should have died!_

“What the hell Zedd!” she practically yelled into the book.

“What did the wizard do now?”

Kahlan nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice coming from right behind her. When she looked Cara was sitting on the end of the bed, facing away, fishing through her bag. And yup, she was still naked. And yup, Kahlan was staring again. She physically had to stop herself from reaching out and tracing the long scar that traversed the length of Cara’s back.

Then Cara pulled a shift over her head, and it felt like a loss. The blonde looked over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow, “Kahlan?”

Kahlan shook herself out of her ridiculousness. What she just read coming back full force and she scowled. “Apparently bonding yourself to me should have killed you. You’d think that would have been worth a warning.”

Of course, Cara just shrugged as if it was no big deal and made her way to the other side of the bed. “It probably wouldn’t have entered his mind that I would choose anybody but myself.”

That makes two of us, Kahlan thought, but regardless, “Cara, he should have said something.”

The blonde smirked. “You really think I would have taken that as anything but a challenge?”

“Unbelievable,” Kahlan muttered as she shook her head and went back to her reading.

_I don’t know what to say about the bond, except it is possible. This type of magic has never been attempted before and it could not be foreseen how it would play out. To my best guess, because the bond between you and Cara is hooked to the Mord-Sith magic, the magic in the other Mord-Sith is feeling that pull. Recognizing it. And in turn, that is what you are feeling._

_With Richard not owning his birthright, it has left the Rahl bond very weak. I imagine if he or another Rahl capable of imposing the bond were to take control of it, they probably never would have sensed it. It would be drowned out by the controlling bond. But Confessor magic is some of the most powerful out there. And it appears to be strong enough that the Mord-Sith can sense the new connection even through the Rahl bond._

_And before you ask, I do not believe they are actually bonded to you. Cara’s bond was created in a way that the one bonded must wilfully partake, and bond themselves. But I dare say if they can feel it, they could potentially be so. I suggest you avoid the Mord-Sith at all costs and get out of there as soon as possible. You don’t know how to control this, and Creator knows what a bunch of Mord-Sith freed from the Rahl bond would do. The Keeper you know and all that._

Kahlan frowned at that last part. She wasn’t sure how Zedd could say such a thing after travelling with Cara for so long. Suddenly she lost her appetite for updating the wizard on the day. She tossed the book at Cara who had sprawled out on her side of the bed. “You can write him if you want. I’m going to wash up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have taken the general description of the Mord-Sith quarters and People's Palace dining halls from my memory of the books. Including one particular scene where Denna had Richard run back and forth with a bucket to the hot water source to fill her tub before it got cold. :-P
> 
> I just want to give you all a little heads up. I know you have gotten used to my twice a week postings, and I do hope to continue that, but I found out yesterday I am getting surgery on Monday. I thought I'd be done the story before it came up, but there was a cancellation and I took the spot. I do not know how I am going to feel for the next couple weeks after. So the postings may not be so consistent. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! Your support on this continues to blow me away.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There are some mild allusions to non-con in this chapter. It is nothing anybody familiar with the fandom isn't aware of. Just a couple mentions of Mord-Sith's past relations with Darken Rahl, which were dubious consent at best, as is the nature of their entire lives. There are no details, just mentions that it happened. I really don't think it's anything bad but I'm mentioning it in case somebody out there is particularly sensitive. If you are worried, message me and I'll help you get the chapter without the mentions.

Cara could feel a presence looming over her and carefully maneuvered her hand over to where she had hidden one of her Agiels under the blanket. Once it was firmly in her grasp, she cautiously opened her eyes, only to roll them when she was met with a bemused Berdine staring down at her.

“That’s a good way to get yourself killed you know.”

Now Berdine rolled her eyes.

“How did you get in here? I bolted the door.”

“You don’t think I have a key to Raina’s room?”

Fair enough. “ _What_ are you doing here?”

Berdine smirked. “What are _you_ doing here? Is that a shift? You know these things work better without clothes.”

“ _What?_ ” Cara was not awake enough for this.

Berdine looked poignantly at her waist. Cara followed the gaze and noticed for the first time the weight of Kahlan’s arm slung across her midsection. She looked over to find the Confessor curled close to her, on her side, mass of brown wavy hair pushed up against her shoulder.

Cara huffed in exasperation, “she would cuddle up to a gar in her sleep.”

“Yes, but would the gar _let her_?”

Cara scowled but kept her voice down, “what do you want Berdine? I thought you weren’t fetching Kahlan until after devotions.”

Berdine smiled self satisfied. “At the risk of making you uncomfortable with the sentimentality of it all, I thought we could go for a walk. It _has_ been a long time. And who knows when I will see you again once you go flying out of here after Rahl.”

Cara nodded, “just give me a minute.”

“Of course. I will wait outside while you have another go with your Confessor.”

Cara quickly reached out and jabbed Berdine in the leg with her Agiel. The woman just smirked as she strolled out the door. Once she was gone Cara returned to the problem that was Kahlan’s arm. She tried glaring at it, but it offered no response. Then she tried to wiggle out sideways but the grip on her tightened so she stopped. Finally, she sighed and rolled her eyes at herself. This was ridiculous. 

She carefully reached down and pulled at Kahlan’s arm by the wrist and tucked it back beside the brunette. Somehow the sleeping woman managed to twist her arm around and grasp Cara’s hand before she could pull away. “For crying out loud,” she mumbled to herself, and began pulling her fingers free.

Kahlan let out a small whine of complaint, and Cara’s heart _did not_ clench at the sound. Freed at last, she sat up, swung her feet on the floor and quickly pulled on her leathers. She contemplated if she could get away without her feeble excuse for a braid but conceded it was for the best and expertly twisted her hair back. 

She pulled on her boots, and decided she better let Kahlan know where she was going, so she didn’t worry if she woke up and do something stupid like come looking for her. She twisted around to discover the Confessor had shuffled further over into her side of the bed. Kahlan never move much when they slept on the ground on the road, or even in the tiny beds they sometimes shared in inns. She wondered if this was a normal thing for Kahlan, to move around so much when in a large comfortable bed. She wondered how big Kahlan’s bed in Aydindril was.

She huffed at her useless train of thought and the torturous mental image that came with it and gently shook the Confessor’s shoulder. “Kahlan,” she whispered.

The soft satisfied hum that escaped the Confessor was definitely not helping matters. “Kahlan,” she tried again. 

“Cara,” she breathed back.

 _Creator_. “Mother Confessor,” she pushed gently on her shoulder again, “I am going to talk with Berdine, I won’t be long. Stay here and rest.”

“Okay,” came a sleepy voice. Kahlan’s hand came up to rest on hers and gently rubbed a thumb across her knuckles, “be careful.”

Cara swallowed past the suddenly formed lump in her throat, shook it off, snatched her gloves from the side table, and made for the door.

\-------------------

Cara and Berdine walked quietly through the halls and up some stairs, where they emerged on top of the southern wall of the inner fortifications that added an extra level of protection to the central part of the palace. The sun was just rising in the far east, stretching endlessly over the Azrith, and dancing off the rooftops of the city. For a while they only stood in companionable silence taking in the view. Finally Cara spoke, “I am sorry about Raina.”

She heard her friend suck in a deep breath beside her. “It has been difficult, but then it always has been in one way or another.”

Cara hummed noncommittedly. The normal punishment for a Mord-Sith displaying such a severe transgression as loyalty to somebody not named Lord Rahl, would be a near death beating and separation at best, a full death beating at worse. But Berdine’s skills made her far too useful to Darken Rahl and instead he derived a demented pleasure in taking one or both of them to his bed. She imagined he sent Raina away simply because he could. Because he wasn’t there to have his twisted enjoyment, their transgression would not be allowed to continue

Berdine let out another long breath. “So how long have you had feelings for the Confessor?”

Cara almost got whiplash from how fast she spun her head around. “ _What_?”

The brunette was grinning, previous difficult words pushed aside for now. “So, you do not find her attractive?”

“I have eyes, but that is hardly _feelings._ ”

“Never change Cara.” Berdine shot her a disbelieving look. “You told her I saved your life. In more than a decade you have never admitted that to me even once.”

“I said no such thing,” Cara huffed. She was going to have to have a discussion with the Confessor about discretion. “I told her about the desert, I cannot help it if she drew her own ridiculous conclusions.”

“So you are here with the Mother Confessor, instead of off digging through dusty scrolls with the _true Lord Rahl_ because?”

“Because this was the right path.” She felt a little guilty not telling Berdine about breaking the bond. But after what the wizard had written in the journey book last night, she couldn’t risk the fallout if they found out about Kahlan. Cara was not big on regrets, but part of her now wished she could go back and bond to herself like was the plan. Not anything to do with the Confessor, only that if she knew releasing her sisters from the bond could have been possible… But she could not ask that of Kahlan. Could not ask her to take on the responsibilities that might come from such an action. Especially when she did not give Kahlan a choice in the matter in the first place. She had enough weight on her shoulders. “It is not uncommon for Mord-Sith to have to take things into their own hands when the Lord Rahl makes a decision against his own best interest.”

“Wow, that almost sounded convincing.”

Cara scowled. She forgot how insufferable Berdine could be when she thought she knew things.

Berdine laughed, “it is hardly a crime to be in love Cara.”

“Mord-Sith _do not love_ ,” she spat back.

That earned her an eye roll. “You do know who you are talking to, right?”

Cara sighed in defeat. There was no getting around this. “That is different,” she tried to deflect.

“Different? You think because Raina and I are both Mord-Sith it was some harmonious coming together of music and lights. It was a messy, passive-aggressive cluster-fuck. We are both broken fragments of people. Do you know how long it took me to believe that Raina wasn’t trying to pull some sort of power move? Do you know how much I hated myself that I didn’t care?”

Cara felt herself flush. She did know. She had been there for much of it. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

Berdine let out a puff of a laugh. “Wow you _have_ changed. Don’t be sorry. Just be happy you have someone who’s motives you know you can trust.”

“Yeah, well she can’t trust me,” she heard herself say before she could stop it.

“Please. You are the most honourable person I know. Stubborn as fuck, but honourable. Even when you were focused on climbing to Lord Rahl’s favour, it was always ruthlessly straightforward.”

Cara briefly smiled at the compliment then it dropped. “I killed her sister.”

Berdine raised an eyebrow, “At Valeria?”

“She was the mother of the boy.”

“Hmm, does the Confessor know?”

Cara let out a humourless laugh, “Yes.”

“She seems to be over it.”

“Would you ever get over that?”

“I never had a sister. I’m still not sure how you skirted that requirement.”

“You’re being purposely difficult now.”

“I’m always being purposely difficult Cara, its what I do. But the _Mother Confessor of the Midlands_ followed you into the heart of D’hara on a mission to take down the Lord Rahl on the promise of help from another Mord-Sith. Wait,” Berdine raised her hands and waved them in from of her face, “you’re right, she doesn’t trust you, she is out of her freaking gourd.”

“Exactly, she is the Mother Confessor of the Midlands. She could not be seen mated to a Mord-Sith.” Cara shook her head emphatically, “and she does not think of me that way.” She paused then added, “and she has the Seeker.”

Berdine’s face scrunched into a sour grimace, “you mean the idiot who gave the Stone of Tears to the Keeper? You’re right. If she is interested in that guy, then you are far too good for her.”

“Kahlan is deserving of far more than I could offer.”

“Wow, did you just openly talk about your feelings?”

“Berdine.”

“No, no, I am just trying to get this straight. The reason it won’t work with this woman who followed you to the home of her enemy, sleeps on you, and lights up when you enter the room is because she doesn’t trust you,” Berdine started counting off fingers, “ _obviously_ doesn’t have feelings for you, and cares for a man who makes bad decisions and skirts his duty? Did I miss anything? Oh,” She held up her hand and added one more finger, “and it will anger a bunch of pissy Midland’s aristocracy.”

Cara rolled her head to glare at her sister, “you know its not that simple.”

“I know,” Berdine conceded, clasping Cara on the back, “forgive me. You know how long I have waited for an opportunity to goad you for being human?”

Cara tried to scowl, but her lip curled into a smirk.

“You’ve changed Cara,” Berdine reiterated with a smile. “You seem lighter. Its good to see.” 

Cara braced her arms on the granite wall overlooking the city. “She changed me.”

Berdine leaned forward against the wall beside her, eyebrow raised. “Before or after you couldn’t shoot her with your arrow?”

\----------------------

“Well this is a pickle.” Hally crossed her arms and considered the unconscious woman in front of them. “Berdine is going to kill us.”

Cara tried to run her hand through her hair, but met only a pulled tight braid. “Are you sure she saw you with me?”

“Yes. She made eye contact and did that wide eyed panicked the world is ending face of betrayal she likes so much.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Maybe you can pass it off as you were trying to stop me.”

The woman tied up in the chains at the end of Raina’s bed began to stir and Hally quickly jumped forward to press her Agiel to the woman’s temple as her eyes came open, knocking her unconscious once more. “Well I guess _that_ plan is out the window. Maybe we can throw her in the back of a wagon out of town or something.”

“We can’t just disappear Alina without raising a lot of suspicion Hally.” They were returning from a sparring session with Captain Meiffert and a few of his men, when a door suddenly opened and Alina was just _there_. Cara quickly knocked her out before she could raise an alarm and they dragged her into Raina’s room and tied her up. Berdine _was_ going to kill them. “But it’s also not going to be safe for you here if we let her go now.”

Hally suddenly smiled brightly, “its cute that you don’t think I wasn’t already planning on coming with you when you leave.”

Cara was taken aback. “What? Hally I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t. But for the record you should have,” she admonished with an exaggerated frown. “Berdine isn’t the only one who can help.” The tall blonde slapped her Agiel in her palm. “Do you think I could just stay here when there is a chance we could be free of that bastard for good? If he no longer holds the bond, I do not intend on sitting around waiting for him to get it back.”

Cara hadn’t really thought about that because she was thinking about the other side. “And if we fail, your punishment won’t be a few days in chains, Hally.” She eyed the unconscious Mord-Sith hanging in front of them. “This is not the desert. He will punish you with the bond, over and over until he finally kills you with it.”

“I know that Cara!” her younger sister snapped back; blue eyes intense. “I know you have always tried to shield me from the worst of things.” Cara started to scoff but Hally cut her off. “Deny it if you want, but I _know._ I saw you and Berdine stepping in all those years, distracting the other Sisters when I caught their eye for the wrong reason. Or the times you materialized out of nowhere when the Lord Rahl was looking my way. But that does not mean I do not know the pain of the bond, or that I wasn’t broken just like you, or know what it means to be punished by the Lord Rahl.” She swallowed hard and continued, “you are not the only one who wishes more for your life. And I deserve a chance to fight for that.”

Cara actually had to push back against the stinging feeling in the corner of her eye that came as a result of Hally’s words. She had never seen her Sister speak so passionately about anything before. “Alright,” she nodded once, “I would be proud to have your Agiel at my side Sister.” 

And at that the cloud passed and the blinding grin returned full bore.

“You will both pay for your betra…” Was all Alina got out before Hally knocked her unconscious once more. 

“Oh for crying out loud.” Both Mord-Sith turned to find Berdine and Kahlan at the door. The tall brunette Mord-Sith was shaking her head. “My room. Now.”

Cara followed Berdine and Kahlan a few doors down into her room, leaving Hally behind to keep an eye on their guest. 

Berdine was pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers, “I don’t even want to know. I am guessing Hally has been compromised?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t seem to care.” She glanced at Kahlan, “she apparently has been planning to come with us.” The Confessor raised her brow in surprised but offered no protest. Like that, Cara considered the matter settled.

Berdine did not appear surprised. “Well then, lets get you back on the road as quickly as possible then.” Cara just now noticed the long sleek black book she had tucked under her arm, that she now pulled forward.

“You found it? You know what Rahl will do?”

Berdine held the volume up and Cara attempted to read the binding, “I can’t read High D’haran Berdine.”

“I know,” she smiled smugly, “It says The Wizards’ Birth.”

Cara scrunched her face, “how does the story about an overeating know it all child being born help us?”

“Not Wizard’s, Wizards’, as in all of them.”

“Human’s did not always have magic,” Kahlan added. “They could use potions or amulets made by other magical creatures, but not create magic themselves. They convinced a magical species of Fae to help them create a spell which would allow them to attain the magic of the blood and spirit.”

Berdine rolled her head at the Confessor with a knowing look. “And of course promptly feared said creatures would change their minds and try to take it away, so slaughtered the entire species.”

“Of course,” Kahlan agreed with pursed lips. 

Cara wasn’t sure what she thought about this apparent comradery between the two women, it felt like trouble. “But humans have magic now, that is precisely who he is trying to take it from, how does this help us?”

“Because the spell was designed to take powerful magic from one place and allow it into another which has none,” Berdine explained and waved the book in her hand. “Such magic is dangerous and could easily kill someone if not performed perfectly. In the ancient Wizard’s case, they pulled it right out of the ground. The Creator formed the entire world from Her power, and when She was done, there were traces left over in the very earth. This spell, when performed in a place where magic is naturally conducive, allowed those men to suck every spare ounce of magical power out of the earth and into the human bloodline. Rahl is going to try and use the same spell to take this Sorceress, Nicci’s power.”

Cara had a lot of questions but started with the most practical. “So, do we have any idea where one of these _naturally conducive_ places could be?”

Berdine and Kahlan shared a long look.

“What? Where?”

Kahlan let out a breath and grimaced, “The Pillars of Creation.”

“WHAT! You mean we have been trekking all over the freaking earth and Rahl is right where we started?”

“Relax Cara,” Berdine placated, “it is unlikely he has been there this whole time. He would need to gather supplies for the spell, and to my knowledge, one in particular he would not be able to find easily.”

“What kind of supplies?”

“The spell must be drawn in white and black sorcerer’s sand. In quite significant quantities. Rahl may be able to find enough of the white, but in all my time I’ve never heard of more than a pouch full of the black.” 

Kahlan held up a palm, “which is probably why he was seen near the boundary to the old world. He probably went in hunt of the sand.”

“But nobody has been able to get through the boundary since it went up thousands of years ago.”

“Yes, but he has a pack of Mord-Sith to control the most powerful woman to ever walk the Earth. It is most certainly possible.” Kahlan tilted her head fondly, “maybe we got lucky and he died trying?”

Cara felt her lip twitch, but caught Berdine watching closely out of the corner of her eye and straightened. “So let me guess, this spell also has to be performed on the Solstice?”

“No, no,” Berdine replied, waited a beat then added, “the full moon.” She waved her hand exuberantly, “Apparently it amplifies the magical current in the air or something.”

“Of course it does,” Cara muttered. She rubbed her fingers over her eyes. “The next full moon is in less than a fortnight. Even if we road a dozen horses into the ground it would be impossible to make it back there that quickly.”

“Well then, I guess you better hope he isn’t ready to go then.”

“Thanks for that helpful tip.” Berdine just smiled, and Cara sighed, “really, thank you Berdine. At least we have a chance now.”

The brunette Mord-Sith rolled her head at the Confessor, “seriously, what did you do to her to get her to start saying thank you?”

Kahlan laughed. Cara scowled. “I’m going to check on Hally and our guest. We’ll have to figure out what to do with her soon.” The blonde shook her head once, looking at Berdine. “Just our past is going to make this trouble for you.”

Berdine plucked herself down on her bed. “I can handle Alina. With no Lord Rahl about, most of the Sisters won’t be up for a crusade in his name.”

“Yes, but other’s will use it as an opportunity to damage your position.”

“I am not without allies. Don’t worry,” the brunette smirked, “and I will read as much of this as I can before you go. In case there is anything specific that can help you.”

Cara stopped at the door, “You know you can come with us.”

“You know why I can’t Cara.”

And she did. Berdine would not risk retribution coming back on Raina because she deferred. Cara nodded her understanding.

“I am in your debt Berdine,” Kahlan pulled the attention to herself, eyes penetrating into the Mord-Sith with a steely promise. “We will not stop until Rahl is dead.” 

The Confessor bit her lip, as she held Berdine’s gaze, like she did when she was about to decide something for herself. Cara looked between the two women and sensed what was coming, but could not react fast enough to stop it.

Berdine shook her head from the Confessor’s stare. “What _is_ that? If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear it was the...”

“The bond,” Kahlan finished. 

Both sets of Mord-Sith eyes snapped to the Confessor.

“Kahlan...” Cara warned.

“Cara its okay.”

Berdine waited silently for whatever this was to play out. 

Her Mord Sith counterpart heaved out a sigh, “you don’t need to do this.”

“I want to.”

“It would not just be Berdine and Hally, Kahlan. This _will_ snowball.”

“I am counting on it.”

“Kahlan. It’s not your responsibility. You do enough.”

“You said it yourself,” Kahlan’s eyes flashed intently, “they need something to rally around or nothing will change. At best we have a few more allies, at worst, maybe a few less enemies to fight.”

Cara gave the Confessor a long stare. “I never meant for you to bare this.” Kahlan held her gaze steady until the blonde’s shoulders slumped and she conceded, “But you know I believe no one is more worthy.”

“Good.” The Confessor smiled sincerely, “because I’m going to need you beside me. I mean,” she suddenly looked far less confident, “I don’t even know if they will accept it.”

“Accept what?” Berdine finally interjected. 

Kahlan opened her mouth to speak but Cara stopped her. “I’ll explain. This was my doing anyway.”

Kahlan nodded her ascent and stepped back. Cara stepped forward in her place. “By the time we sealed the veil to the Underworld it was apparent Richard was never going to claim his birthright.” She shook her head,” I kept trying to convince him but it was futile. And once it was obvious Darken was on the hunt to get his magic back, I decided there was no way I was going to live like that again and inquired to our wizard if there were any way to sever the bond.”

Berdine’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. “Such a thing is possible? I have never heard of it.”

Cara tilted her head, “you really think the Rahls would just leave that information laying around the library? Anyway, Zedd had looked into it during the great war. He found something that could work but only on and individual basis and before you ask,” she stopped Berdine’s question on her lips, “it required an ingredient even more rare than your black sand. Azizi guts. The creature has been extinct a thousand years. It was pretty much a one-shot spell.” Cara straightened a bit, “I will not apologize for being selfish with this.” 

The brunette raised a brow, “you mean Anzu?”

“Seriously Berdine, do you have to know everything?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “So, you broke the bond, you know I would not begrudge you that Cara. But what does this have to do with the Confessor?”

“Well,” Cara suddenly felt the unfamiliar flush of embarrassment. She coughed, “the spell did not so much break the bond than transfer it to another.” 

Berdine’s blue eyes blew wide in a mix of shock and amusement. “And you decided to transfer it to a Confessor?”

“It had to be someone of magic,” Cara said defensively. She could swear she felt her ears heating. “I wasn’t about to choose the Wizard.”

Her Sister’s face morphed into a confused frown, “Mord-Sith have magic, it wouldn’t have worked on yourself?”

Cara opened her mouth but no words came out.

Berdine was openly amused now.

Kahlan jumped in and rescued the floundering blonde. “The point is, a new bond has been created. Like Cara said, it was supposed to be a one-time thing, but when we arrived here the other day, I could feel something was off. I have encountered dozens of Mord-Sith and never felt this,” she struggled for a description.

“Rolling?” Berdine offered. 

Kahlan nodded, “I have a journey book and enquired to Zedd. Long story short, he thinks the Mord-Sith magic is recognizing the bond between Cara and I, and that is what is causing the feeling.”

“But I am not bonded to you. I can still feel the Rahl bond, as weak as it is.”

“No, you are not. The magic requires the bonded to be willing. You would have to choose it.”

Berdine finally rose from the bed and started pacing, “So you are saying I could choose this? I could bond myself to you and it would free me of the Rahl line?”

Kahlan shook her head, “I honestly don’t know. The wizard thinks maybe, and my gut says yes. I don’t think we would be feeling this if it wasn’t possible.”

Berdine stood straight, Mord-Sith suspicion on full display. “And what would you want in return? What are you after? A Confessor with a bunch of Mord-Sith to bend to her will? Seems like a great way to deal out some revenge for past wrongs.”

A small laugh escaped from Cara and the two brunettes turned to eye her. She quickly schooled her features.

Kahlan sighed and returned her attention to Berdine. “Cara is right. I wouldn’t even know where to begin to try and control the bond. And even if I did, I would never.”

Berdine still looked skeptical. “So what would you want in return for our loyalty?” 

“Just that Berdine. Your loyalty. I won’t choose your path for you. If you wish to run off to your cabin in the woods to live out your day, then I wish you only peace. But I wont lie. I would prefer your service. At least until this threat is removed. Nobody will be living in peace if Darken Rahl gets his hands on that kind of power.”

Berdine’s eyes moved back to Cara. She would not pressure her Sister on this. And she understood her skepticism. It had been beaten into all of them after all. They were but tools to be used by their lord and now she was suddenly being given an option to let a new lord use her. Had she been back in the People’s Palace the last year, and it was Berdine who came strolling in with a Confessor in toe proclaiming freedom in a new bond, she is not sure she would be taking it half as well as Berdine.

And she knew exactly what question was in Berdine’s mind at this moment. “You can’t,” she answered.

“Can’t what?” Kahlan asked.

Cara continued to look at Berdine as she answered, “she wants to know how she can be sure you haven’t been controlling me with the bond this whole time. But she can’t know.”

Kahlan’s face soured, “of course I’m not controlling you!”

She finally looked at the Confessor, “I know that, and you know that, but there is no way to prove it. The only way I know I can trust Berdine is because Richard controls the Rahl bond. Berdine does not have that luxury with me anymore. We are asking her to do what a Mord-Sith is trained never to do, and that is take a leap of faith.”

Kahlan now looked openly upset. “I’m trying to help them.”

Cara’s face softened. “I know Kahlan. You are too noble for your own good.”

“Has it affected your powers?” Berdine suddenly inquired.

“My Agiels work,” Cara said unconsciously reaching to grasp one. “And the wizard helped me test the Magic against Magic, but I have not had an opportunity to try the Breath of Life yet. But Zedd feels there is no reason it should not work.”

Berdine’s quizzical gaze turned into a grin, “we could test it on Alina.”

“No.” Kahlan stated firmly, “We are not testing anything on anyone.”

“Is that an order?” Both Mord-Sith asked in cheeky unison.

Kahlan placed her face in her hands, “Spirits, what am I getting myself in to?”

“Let’s say, hypothetically, I go along with this and it works,” Berdine shook her head at Cara, “you know I cannot come with you. I would have to go to her.”

That was when Cara knew there was no hypothetical about it. Berdine _was_ going to try this. She would risk bonding herself to a vengeful Confessor for the chance to free Raina. “And that is what you should do,” she replied.

After another long moment, Berdine cracked her neck, “So how do we do this?”

“I mean, your guess is as good as mine,” Kahlan replied. “But Cara did have to swear and oath from the heart to trigger the connection. Maybe start there?”

Berdine nodded. Then Kahlan added, “it may be painful.”

That garnered a smirk from the tall brunette, “Mord-Sith do not fear pain.”

Kahlan rolled her eyes at the expected response, “It was bad.”

Berdine tilted her head to Cara. Cara shrugged. “No worse than our first breaking.”

“Memories,” Berdine smirked, then hesitated. “What should I say?”

Kahlan bit her lip in thought, “I don’t know, Cara what did _you_ say?”

Cara straightened suddenly, forcing herself to look steadily into the Confessors eyes. “I bond myself to the Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan quirked an eyebrow but seemed satisfied.

“She’s lying.”

Cara twisted her neck to her smirking Sister and scowled in disbelief.

“Wha…” Kahlan looked between them in confusion. “What did you say Cara?”

Berdine just grinned.

“I can hardly remember.”

“ _Cara_ , tell me.”

“Is that an order?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

“I’m asking.”

Cara averted her eyes, “that’s not fair.”

Kahlan sighed, “fine don’t tell me.”

“Do you two want to be alone?” Berdine asked, her smirk somehow growing even more obnoxious.

Cara could feel her scowl cutting into her forehead.

“Its fine,” Kahlan dismissed a little stiffly. Cara huffed inwardly. As soon as the Confessor’s back was turned Berdine was getting an Agiel.

“Its okay, I got this,” the annoying tall brunette insisted, taking a knee before the Confessor. 

“That’s not necessary Berdine,” Kahlan urged her up.

“The symbolism of it will be important to the other Mord-Sith, Mother Confessor,” she replied, using Kahlan’s formal title for the first time. “You may as well get used to what kind of devotion you are attaching yourself too.” 

Kahlan sighed but nodded.

Berdine bowed her head and pulled her Agiel, holding it firmly in front of her, a long breath the only sign of nerves. “I swear on my Agiel, my life before the Mother Confessor. I willingly accept this bond and offer my life in service.”

Suddenly the Mord-Sith grimaced and sucked in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. She gave her head a shake then looked over at Cara as she got back to her feet. “That was your big pain? I mean I always knew I was stronger than you, but come on.”

Cara’s eyes flashed indignantly, “It was like I was boiling from the inside out, I have no idea what _that_ was.”

“ _Cara_?”

Great. She had never told the Confessor how bad it was. She did not mean to let that slip. Damn Berdine and her goading. She was getting both Agiels. “It’s fine Kahlan. I am fine.”

Kahlan didn’t look convinced, “Why was it so bad for you and not her?”

“Best guess, because she was literally forging a new bond,” Berdine explained when Cara offered nothing, “and I was just hooking to it? I mean, Confessor magic and Mord-Sith magic are notoriously incompatible,” she said matter-of-factly, “I am kind of surprised it didn’t kill you.”

Now Kahlan was giving her another scolding look, like the effects of Zedd’s rare magic were somehow supposed to be common knowledge. Cara returned her attention to Berdine, “So it worked then?”

“Yes,” both Kahlan and Berdine answered. 

Cara quirked a brow at the Confessor. She said she felt nothing with her. Although she had just fought with the Seeker and had likely been sitting on the ground crying over a piece of weaponry. 

“It was like a small tug,” Kahlan explained. “But I definitely felt the connection.”

Berdine hummed, “We will have to do this carefully. The more who bond to her, the stronger it will grow, and likely so will the draw. This is going to be a tough sell, and not every Sister here is eager to be free of the Lord Rahl.” She clapped her hands, “I’ll go switch with Hally and you can begin your pitch again. Do that whole bit about just wanting to help and being too noble, it was very convincing.”

Cara rolled her eyes and followed Berdine to the door where she grabbed her forearm. “I promise you, you wont regret this.”

Berdine considered her with a small nod and left.

When she turned back Kahlan was sitting on the bed, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Are you sure you want to do this Kahlan? You can stop now. Or Stop with Hally. Then we can just leave. You do not have to bond every last Mord-Sith in D’hara to you.” Cara shook her head, “It will come with consequences. We are not like regular soldiers.”

“I know Cara. But this isn’t just for them. If we do not get to Rahl before he completes the spell, we will have a much better chance of defeating him with an army of magic against magic with us. And I think once they get a taste of free will, nobody will fight more fiercely to keep it.”

Kahlan had no idea how true that was. The Confessor looked like she was about to say something else, but instead began picking at the quilt with a small frown on her face. She was still upset. 

Cara cursed herself for caring. Maybe she _was_ confessed. “For crying out loud.” Kahlan’s eyes returned in question, and Cara tried to keep her tone as ‘this is ridiculous and doesn’t matter’ as possible. “Kahlan, I bond myself to you in my blood and my heart. My life is yours.” She threw up her hands emphatically as if to say are you happy now?

“Oh,” Kahlan whispered quietly, “well we can’t have them say that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alina was the Mord-Sith that freaked out at Cara when she stopped her from torching Zedd at the boxes of Orden, if you are wondering.
> 
> In the books there didn't seem to be as overtly physical relationships between Mord-Sith, which made Berdine & Raina's relationship an extra big deal when Rahl found out. I believe though, even if Rahl was okay with pleasure, if he suspected actual love between them he would still exploit and punish this, so I kept that aspect.
> 
> Also in the books it was required a Mord-Sith candidate have no siblings, I made mention via Berdine, because I like bringing in the books. "These things work better without clothes" was actually a Cara line that I stole and turned back on her. :-P
> 
> This will be the last chapter before surgery. If everything goes well, I will hopefully be back to posting soon.
> 
> Thank you all for all your support. In less than 2 months, you have put me in the top 40 for Kudos for this fandom, and it blows me away! I was so nervous to share my work, and you have all been so great.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back, sort of...  
> Surgery went really well. Thank you all for your well wishes. But since then I have been suffering from the worlds worst case of writers block. I fear when they fixed my health they stole my ability to write coherent sentences. I finally sat down this week and tried to FORCE myself through the block, but it has been slow going. 
> 
> However, I do have a chapter that I had written before the surgery, so I am going to give it to you now. I was hoping to have a couple more written before I started posting again, so we could get back into the nice pattern of twice a week chapters, but whatever. It has been too long. I want to give you guys something. Hopefully I can break through this brain cloud soon, the posting schedule might just be a little more erratic going forward. 
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support!

Kahlan brushed her fingers through the mane of her white stallion and once again took in the sight that surrounded her. The Mother Confessor of the Midlands was riding straight down the main highway from the People’s Palace, with an escort of fifteen Mord-Sith, not including Cara, and another ten soldiers of the First File. Not as a prison escort, but as a force. All now working together to prevent their former Master from regaining control.

Despite their goal, they were able to march directly through the checkpoints. Nobody thinking to question the motives of such a group. Not even the occasional Dragon Corp they passed on the road.

Her eyes travelled up the column of riders to the front where Cara was riding along talking to Captain Meiffert. He was gesturing out at the men he had scouting out to the sides and ahead of the group. Something he said caused the blonde to shake her head and smirk. She pushed down a wave of jealousy and sighed. It was for the best.

After hearing the words Cara had spoken to bond herself, it had taken all of Kahlan’s self control not to launch herself from where she had been sitting and straight into the Mord-Sith’s arms. Replaying the truth of Confession over and over like a mantra in her head to stop herself. Taking Cara’s obviously forced lead of it not being a big deal, and schooling her features as soon as the initial shock wore off.

Fortunately, it was only a few moments before Hally came bounding through the door, and the matter at hand took precedent. Things moved quickly after that and it was easy to find the excuse for distance. When Cara offered them up, Kahlan did not fight them. Did not push for discussion. And even made the suggestion herself that Cara seek out the Captain’s assistance. He was all too happy to assemble some like minded men to help with the task, apparently himself included.

All in all, it was tearing at Kahlan’s insides. She knew the admission of those words were as close to an admission of _feeling something_ she was ever going to get from Cara. And Cara would no doubt see Kahlan’s reaction as a full rejection of that something. But Kahlan couldn’t very well come out and say “oh yeah, I feel for you too, we just can’t because confession.” She was certain the reckless blonde would not see the threat of a sure and painful death as a deterrent. She would more likely take it as a challenge. And Kahlan wasn’t sure how long she would be able to resist if Cara was openly pursuing this thing between them. It was a recipe for disaster. 

This morning, Kahlan took her last chance to rail against this possibility that was Cara slipping through her fingers and messaged Zedd, inquiring why he was so sure it was Richard’s love that made him immune. She never felt so transparent than when she, as innocently as possible, posed her question in her own blood. She prayed he couldn’t see right through her. 

She had just checked the journey book for the seventh time, and there was no response. Meanwhile, the Captain was now sharing his waterskin with Cara, and she was definitely taking a long drink with both her mouth and her eyes. 

She couldn’t blame her, she supposed. He was quite a handsome man. And quite genuine. The concern and duty he felt for the people of D’hara was admirable. The truth of it shone plain as day on his face, and she was happy to have his sword and his men at their side. The fact that these men were willing to risk themselves without protection from the bond she shared with the Mord-Sith did not escape her. 

She should be happy her friend had attracted the attention of such a quality person. And she could be. Eventually. Once the stabbing pain in her chest passed. 

Neither watching where they were going, Kahlan’s horse angled its way into Berdine’s. Her blue eyes flickered up from where they had been buried in her book. “Sorry my Lady, I should pay more attention to the road.”

Kahlan waved her hand with a smile, “don’t worry about it Berdine, and you don’t need to call me that.”

“Of course, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan sighed. Berdine had become ridiculously formal in the presence of any of the other Mord-Sith since they began taking their oaths. She insisted that they needed to know exactly who was in charge, and could not be given any leash until a healthy respect had been established. Kahlan had some thoughts of her own about leaders earning respect, but had to admit she knew little of the internal power structures of the Mord-Sith and would not easily dismiss Berdine’s council.

“You never should have let her bring books my Lady.” Another of the endlessly tall, blonde, blue-eyed Mord-Sith rode on her other side. Nyda. One of the first and most eager of Darken Rahl’s now former servants to bond to the Confessor. “We will be lucky if she can pry her nose out of them long enough to defend herself should trouble arise.”

“That is why we brought _you_ Nyda,” the brunette shot a scowl that was somehow filled with mirth. “To slow trouble down with your body and give me the time to find the knowledge to secure victory.”

The tall blonde rolled her eyes in a way Kahlan was beginning to think was part of the Mord-Sith training. “Don’t worry Lady Amnell, while Berdine tries to stop our enemies with paper cuts, my Agiel will keep you safe.”

Kahlan couldn’t help but laugh both at the gentle teasing and the sheer ridiculousness of travelling on the road between a bunch of Mord-Sith while they took pot shots at each other. “Well I thank you both for your service, no matter what form it takes.”

“Thank you?” Nyda rolled the words distastefully in her mouth, then leaned forward on her horse to talk past the Confessor to Berdine. “She certainly has a lot to learn about being the Lord Rahl, doesn’t she?”

“Patience Nyda, with our help she will get there.”

“I most certainly _will not_ ,” Kahlan insisted. “Though I will never deny I have more to learn, being like that man is not one of those things.” She looked directly at Nyda with a hooked brow. “You all are just going to have to get used to having your services appreciated.”

The Mord-Sith’s face was a mix of sour confusion. Kahlan had to bite her lip not to laugh. “I guess we both have things to learn,” she offered instead.

“Indeed,” Nyda nodded in approval, then added thoughtfully as she gently moved her horse away, “perhaps we have all been afforded an opportunity to better ourselves.”

Kahlan blinked at the deep introspective so openly offered by this woman she only met a few days past. Maybe at some point she would stop being surprised by these women. Somehow, she doubted it. 

“You’re doing well,” Berdine said once Nyda was out of earshot.

Kahlan shook her head, “I’m not doing anything but being honest.”

Berdine hummed. “A sound strategy for a group that has been bent with lies at every turn.”

“It’s not a strategy,” Kahlan defended. “We can only be who we are Berdine, no more, no less.”

The brunette hummed again. “That is why it is working. Confessor’s are not the only ones who have been trained to spot lies.” She gestured with her head at some of her Sister’s riding ahead, “and you truly believe _we_ are more?”

“You’re already proving that you are,” Kahlan answered with a smile. “You are all here because you chose it. And I hope you know how much I appreciate that _you_ came with us.”

“It _was_ the sound strategy,” Berdine said with a forced smile. “But I will not lie and say I am not constantly thinking about turning tail and riding in the other direction.”

“I won’t try to stop you if you do, but I don’t doubt Hally will get there before the next full moon.” It was Hally’s idea actually. That she be the one to go north to gather Raina so that Berdine could travel with them, take her time translating the book and offering her expertise. As well as her influence over her Sisters, which was proving invaluable.

Normally the journey to the northern Temple would take at least a fortnight, but Hally swore on her Agiel, that if Berdine went south after Rahl, she would get there before the moon, in case Darken was ready to perform the spell and take back the bond. They were unsure, after all, if this loophole out of the Rahl Bond would remain open once it was again being enforced. Hally argued passionately about how she was the far superior rider and this was the best chance for success on all fronts. In the end Berdine begrudgingly conceded. 

Kahlan realized then there was so much more to the young woman than her trouble-making antics would have suggested. She had been ready to come and fight with them even without the protection of the bond. And she was already swearing her oath before Cara had even finished explaining. Although some residual hurt from Cara keeping her freedom secret did have to be placated when they were done. This was a woman who could offer full trust, but expected it in return.

In some ways she reminded her a lot of Cara and Kahlan found she was actually looking forward to the day the young blonde made it back to them. “She seems very motivated,” she added in encouragement.

“That’s why Solvig went with her. To make sure she wasn’t _too_ motivated.”

Kahlan let out a small chuckle and tried to place a face to the name. It would help if eight out of ten of them weren’t six-foot-tall gorgeous blonde women. “Solvig was the one with the small scar on her left cheek?”

“I’m impressed Mother Confessor, even I have trouble telling the blonde ones apart.”

She laughed at the Mord-Sith’s joke, though she suspected Berdine knew more about each of her Sister’s than perhaps they knew of themselves. “I’ve spent my days travelling the world meeting countless people. Every Midland’s bureaucrat, and cousin to the Queen’s advisor expects you to know exactly who they are when you pass them by again years later.”

“And you remember them all?”

“Creator no,” she shook her head, “but I’ve learned a few tricks to help me remember the faces of consequence.”

“I find I have the opposite problem, where people hope I don’t remember their faces,” Berdine smiled back proudly.

Kahlan could only imagine. “How goes the reading?” She noted Berdine was already halfway through the volume. “I am impressed at the speed you are working through that. Zedd knows a little bit of High D’haran but it can take him days to work through a small passage only to come out with six possible meanings for it.”

“That is because High D’haran is as much about context and sentence structure as it is the words. What the word means can depend on entire pages of a book.” She pursed her lips in thought as she tried to think of a way to explain it. “It is something like looking at a painting. You must consider the entirety of it to understand what is going on.” A pear suddenly appeared in her hand and she took a bite, “it really is more like an art than a language. Its rather beautiful to read.”

Kahlan smiled at the Mord-Sith’s choice of words. She also suddenly found herself missing Cara and the sarcastic remark that surely would have flown from her lips at such a proclamation out of a Mord-Sith. Cara was thirty yards away and she _missed_ her. She prayed this distance between them would not be permanent. Prayed even more Zedd would come back with some firm proof of his proclamation about love.

“If you are worried about Cara with the soldier it will be fine.”

“ _What_?” Kahlan swallowed and forced the calm onto her face, hoping her hair hid the ears she could feel heating.

Berdine took her in with a hooked brow and a bemused smirk playing on her lips. “Cara. She would never admit it of course, but she is nervous about being back amongst her Sisters of the Agiel. There is some mistrust and hard feelings on both sides, but it will only take a good skirmish for them to realize they are on the same side again. They all just made the same choice as Cara after all,” Berdine waved her hand around at the Mord-Sith. “And they all held her in high esteem before she left us. They will come around.”

If only that was why Cara was riding ahead, Kahlan thought. But it _was_ a legitimate concern. In fact, after Berdine, Hally, and a few other Mord-Sith Berdine had deemed sympathetic had bonded themselves to Kahlan, Cara took a step back, sometimes removing herself from the room all together, and let Berdine take the lead on convincing others to join.

It was still so surreal. After a handful had been bonded, some began to feel the pull and would show up at Berdine’s door on their own volition looking for an explanation. One after another, the leather-clad women she had been trained to hate, and had been trained to hate her, taking a knee and swearing fealty because the chance of owning their own lives was too much to resist. In fact, one Mord-Sith, Hania, gave that exact reasoning for her choice. 

“Well I don’t trust this at all,” she said with a burning scowl that made Kahlan want to take a step back in retreat. Her ice blue eyes glared at each of her re-bonded sisters like they were all a bunch of idiots. “We are all going to end up bent to the twisted whims of this Confessor, then dying of confession for our troubles.” But then she took the knee. When Kahlan asked her why, she looked up angrily chewing her lip before revealing with a snarl, “because I could never forgive myself if I am wrong.”

Kahlan looked to the back of the column of riders where the brooding Mord-Sith brought up the rear. Kahlan never ordered any of them to come with her either. But Hania still _chose_ to. In the end, of the thirty-seven Mord-Sith still based in the People’s Palace, all but three knelt before her and repeated Berdine’s vow. Those women, including Alina, were now being watched by the ones chosen to stay behind, to see to matters there, and not rouse suspicions when the People’s Palace suddenly found itself devoid of Mord-Sith. 

Kahlan had given her word that bonding was a choice and nobody would be killed for refusing that choice. And despite several offers, and emphatic suggestions for the need to do just that, she would not have her first order to the Mord-Sith be to help her break her word. But she also couldn’t have anyone running off to alert Rahl that he was losing his most prized warriors to the Mother Confessor. So, Alina and the others would be held until word was sent that Rahl had been defeated, or else there was any hint that Rahl regained the bond. If that happened Kahlan’s Mord-Sith were instructed to flee the city. _Kahlan’s Mord-Sith._ She shook her head at the preposterousness of such a sentence. 

One Mord-Sith, upon taking the oath, made good on Kahlan’s other promise to let them choose their own path, immediately shed her leathers, dropped her Agiel, and strode from the room in her nameday suit, not to be seen again. 

She peaked back over her shoulder again at the woman trailing behind. But Hania stayed. And she chose to go after Rahl. That had to say something.

The woman caught Kahlan looking at her and glared. 

_Or_ she was just there to ensure Kahlan kept her word. 

“I could teach you if you’d like.” Berdine interrupted her thoughts.

“What?”

“High D’haran. You seem to have a knack for languages.”

Kahlan’s brow rose in surprise, “really? Is that allowed?”

Berdine’s laughter was warm. “Allowed? You remember you are in charge here, right?”

“So few people know it, I thought it was a sacred tradition or something.”

“No, it is just extremely difficult and its only uses scholarly. It only feels sacred because Darken Rahl did not want anyone but himself knowing the language, because of the ancient powers that are hidden in its texts.” She tapped the book in her hand, “he made a point of murdering anyone who knew it.” The emotionless mask of the Mord-Sith she had seen so many times on Cara, crept across Berdine’s features. “That was how I was chosen. My family has been passing the language down for generations. They considered themselves keepers of the dying art. Darken Rahl found me when he came to kill my father, aunt and uncle. I was thirteen summers at the time, girls that old are not usually taken. But Rahl saw the opportunity to have a scholar bound to him, and took it.”

“I’m sorry Berdine.”

The brunette shook off the memory and dug into her side bag, “if you wish to learn we will start with this.” She handed a small bound book to the Confessor. 

_“Con ost Sentrosi?_ What does that mean?”

“Literally word for word, Blood of Fire, but it actually means…”

“The Bond,” Kahlan finished.

“Look, you’re getting it already,” Berdine offered with a grin.

“Berdine, I do not wish to use the bond on anyone.”

“That’s what Cara said you would say, but she also claims you are really wise,” the Mord-Sith gave her a meaningful look, “and I think a wise person would want to learn about the power they control.”

\----------------

Kahlan sat down in her tent on the end of the bed the soldiers had fabricated from some hay bales they were carting with them for the horses. She had insisted the ground was fine, but apparently, they would not hear it. A couple candles burned a top a nearby crate, enough to gently light the space of the small field tent, and she couldn’t say she wasn’t glad for the privacy. 

She did not second guess this alliance with the Mord-Sith. It felt like something important. Shota warned a merging of powers would be needed to stop the coming darkness, and this was certainly that. And even if this wasn’t _that,_ freeing the Mord-Sith from Rahl would be a game changer. Firmly knocking a leg out from under Rahl’s ability to hold power.

But the days were long when you were feeling like your every action was being measured out by dozens of judgemental eyes. A mark of solitude before bed to escape it was appreciated. Kahlan took a sip a tea one of the Mord-Sith had brought her, another surreal moment in her new reality, and reached for the journey book.

She took a deep breath and opened it. Flipping past the pages from Zedd’s update after arriving in Aydindril. The Council was aware of the Dragon Corp in the north and was discussing options. In the meantime, it had began calling in reserves to bolster the army in case of attack. Dennee had arrived safely a few weeks prior and was now overseeing in her place, though not before several members of the council insisted Dennee prove who she said she was. 

Apparently, in the face of a stranger and the believed eradication of the Confessors in Valeria, a signed letter from the Mother Confessor was not enough evidence. They dragged a prisoner from the dungeon, accused only of theft in lieu of any murders on hand, and insisted Dennee use her gift on him. 

Dennee instead unleashed her power into the ring leader of the dissenting Councilmen, immediately silencing the remaining questions. The councilmen from Tamurang would now have to be replaced. For such a little kingdom, they sure did love causing problems. 

It got easier for her after Zedd arrived. A Confessor with a Wizard by her side was a combination rarely challenged in the Midlands.

It could take up to two months for the wizard to make his way back to the Pillars of Creation, so they decided it would be better if Zedd remained in Aydindril. Because of both the looming threat to the north, and the unknown status of the threat that was Darken Rahl. If Rahl acquired his powers before they could stop him, there was nothing saying he wouldn’t drive straight for the Midland’s capital to wipe out the resistance to his rule. Perhaps a wizard of the first order would give them a fighting chance. 

She continued to flip past the very long lecture about the reckless move to free the Mord-Sith from the Rahl bond. How they were _not_ Cara and had _not_ spend time with Richard’s influence, how she had no knowledge to enforce the bond, and was likely to get an Agiel in the back as cooperation from these women. 

She was pretty sure she had given Zedd a small stroke when she informed him that she had enlisted their help, and he probably passed out after draining so much blood to write his little speech. But frankly that served him right for giving Richard too much credit for Cara’s path. 

Finally, after her update on their progress south, some advice for Dennee on handling any further pushback from the council and the newly vacant seat, and her gentle inquiry to Zedd. she reached the new text. She sucked in a breath as she reread her question.

_I was talking to one of the Mord-Sith here who is particularly well versed on matters of the bond and the Rahl magic. She seems to believe that Richard was immune to Confession because the magic of the Rahl Bloodline protects him. Out of curiosity, what was it that made you think it was his love for me? Obviously, I had never heard of it before, but you seemed so sure in your proclamation._

Of course, Zedd’s response started with a reprimand and with Richard.

_Kahlan, I hope you are well and staying vigilant. I still cannot say I approve of this tactic, but what is done is done. I have begun researching the bond magic, in hopes to find something that will help you protect yourself and enforce your will if need be. In the meantime, might I suggest attempting to project your will? Perhaps Cara will help you practice. I suppose I should blame myself. Tampering with powerful magic always has a price._

Kahlan rolled her eyes, but kept reading.

_Richard is setting out from the Palace of the Profits today and will make to catch up with you. I told him you will keep to the eastern branch of the Kern, and will update your location with him to help him find you. Richard and the Sisters of the Light believe they have found a prophecy that can help, that indicates he will defeat Rahl. He is eager to be back at your side._

_As for your inquiry, do not fret my dear._

Kahlan’s heart went into her throat. Hope pulsing through her.

_I know this time apart must be so hard on you both, but Richard loves you. I’ll admit, I was an old romantic fool caught up in the moment of it all. I have never heard of it happening before, but it just frankly made sense. He couldn’t be Confessed. What could overcome the power of love but the greater power of true love. Though I caution about revealing too much to the Mord-Sith, her council may be correct on this. Richard is a Rahl, and if it is true the bloodline offers protection, then it is possible that is why he could not be Confessed. Just take solace Kahlan in the fact that he cannot be. You are the first Confessor in history who can be with the one she loves. Whatever the reason, you can be together._

Kahlan slammed the book shut and with it her last hope. She stared at it, feeling nothing but numb. 

“Mother Confessor.” Berdine entered with a nod, Cara in tow, and they came to stand on either side of a small table full of maps the Captain had provided for them to start planning their route as they moved out of the southern Azrith. The dry grasslands would give way to the pine forests over the next couple days. Which would provide a welcome reprieve from the summer heat, but also was prime territory for both Gars and bandits, looking to pick off weary travellers moving out of the desert.

Cara immediately frowned, looking between her and the journey book. “Is everything okay? You look… unwell. Did something happen in Aydindril?”

“No,” Kahlan forced a smile, “Dennee is still having a time getting the council to toe the line. They have been on their own for so long, some have let the power go to their head. But other than that, things are well.” She placed the journey book beside her on the bed, and rose to meet the Mord-Sith. “Richard is apparently on route to join us. So that’s, good.”

Cara looked like she wanted to say something more but remained silent. 

Berdine, who was carrying two books of her own, placed them on the table and took her cue to speak. “I have found something which will hopefully mean more time, though,” she conceded as she flipped open the book about the spell, “I suppose it is impossible to know how far along Rahl is on all this.”

“I could use any good news you can offer right now Berdine.” She ignored the renewed frown Cara was giving her, and stayed focus on the brunette. 

She pointed to a passage in her book. “The spell must be drawn in a room that lies in the catacombs below the Pillars. Something to do with the Pillars channelling the transmission.”

“Catacombs?” Cara asked. “All I saw was sand and crumbling ruins.”

“Exactly, so in addition to finding copious amounts of sorcerers sand, he will need to find and dig out the ruins.”

Cara grunted and waved at the table. “How does he know to do all this if we have the instruction manual.”

“He may not have magic now, but he did once, and could use it to bind spells to memory. Ask your wizard, it is common practice. They live impossibly long lives but somehow, with a human brain maintain all that knowledge? Just because his magic is gone, doesn’t mean the memory is. Or maybe he found another source.” Berdine flipped the book closed, “or maybe I am completely off track and Lord Rahl is just parading around the world with a harem of Mord-Sith and the world’s deadliest magic wielder for his own pleasure.”

“I was just asking,” the blonde muttered, bringing smiles to both brunettes.

Berdine then turned back to the Confessor. She tapped at her books again. “I was going to see if you wished to get started, but perhaps tomorrow. It appears other matters are occupying your mind now, and your first lesson will go better if you are not weary or distracted.”

Kahlan thought about Zedd’s words and her heart clenched. There was no way she could focus on anything else right now. “I believe you are right Berdine. It has been a long day, and I am feeling a little… weary.”

“Of course Mother Confessor,” she replied with a curt nod. But both Berdine and Cara remained where they were.

Kahlan looked between them. “Well if that’s everything then, I think I’ll go to bed now.”

“As you wish my lady,” Berdine replied. She removed her Agiel and put it on the table. 

Kahlan’s eyes went wide then, when instead of leaving she began working at the laces to her upper leathers. “What are you doing?”

“It is a Mord-Sith’s purpose to serve her master in every way Mother Confessor. That means both service on the battlefield, and to de-stress from it.”

“I do not need… _servicing_ Berdine,” Kahan sputtered and glanced side eyed at Cara who stood by stoic and unreadable, staring at nothing. “I just need sleep.”

“Nonsense my Lady, you will rest far better after I help you relax.” Berdine was about halfway down the back of her leathers that now matched Kahlan’s face.

“Cara!” she beseeched, “a little help here?”

Cara’s head turned; calm green eyes met hers. “You wish me to join you my Lady?”

Kahlan felt her stomach fall away. All she could do is stare at Cara in disbelief. 

Finally, the corner of the blonde’s mouth quirked and the air came out of the Confessor in a rush. 

When Kahlan looked back at the brunette Mord-Sith she was already holstering her Agiel with a large grin on her face. She bowed her head, “Good night Mother Confessor. Mistress Cara.” Then turned and was gone from the tent without bothering to redo her ties.

Kahlan rubbed her hands over her face, “these women are going to be the death of me.”

Cara laughed, “they are just testing Kahlan.”

“Testing what?” Kahlan frowned. “Me?” Was she somehow failing because she did not have the appetites of the Lord Rahl? 

“Their limits. Their freedom.” Cara shrugged, “they are not used to self expression in front of their Lord. They do not fully trust in it yet, so they are pushing at your edges.”

“So all that was to just throw me off balance and see how I would react?” 

“No,” Cara straightened. “Berdine would have followed through had you accepted. Such a gesture would have been expected from Darken Rahl if he had not already commanded it. She was hiding behind something she knew, to test her limits, because she does not yet trust in her new reality.”

“They don’t believe I am different than Darken Rahl?” She couldn’t help feel a little hurt, “I thought things were going well with Berdine.”

“Its not that they don’t believe _you_. They have a hard time believing in anything. It has been beaten into us that trust is a weakness.” Kahlan watched as Cara shifted her weight back and forth between her feet. “It is very hard to let go completely. To believe in something.” She let out a soft breath and locked eyes with Kahlan, “hope is the first thing they take from us, and is the hardest thing to get back. You have offered hope Kahlan and everything in us has been trained to push back against it.”

Feeling like they were having a parallel conversation, Kahlan lost herself momentarily in Cara’s sea-green eyes. Wishing with everything in her she could chase away the ghosts of the stoic blonde’s past. But in this moment, she too was feeling the loss of hope. 

Perhaps Cara felt it too because she broke the eye contact and began fiddling with the maps on the table. “I wouldn’t worry too much Confessor. Berdine was obviously enjoying herself just now, but she has much to hope for.”

“Raina,” Kahlan whispered. 

“There is a reason Mord-Sith do not love, Confessor.” 

Kahlan found she could do nothing but relate.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seemed upset when we first came in.”

“I’m fine. It’s just been a long couple days.”

Cara looked unconvinced and eyed the book before gesturing between them. “I take it Dennee is upset about this?”

“ _This_?” Kahlan’s voice cracked with a squeak so she coughed and tried again, more assured. “This?”

Cara tilted her head in confusion, “I can’t imagine she would be thrilled about your new collection of Mord-Sith.”

“Oh, no. I have asked Zedd not to tell her,” she grimaced. “I think that is something I should explain in person.” Kahlan laughed humourlessly, “I am beginning to think I should have told Zedd in person as well.”

Cara hummed non-committedly then took a deep breath. “I guess I should let you get some rest.” Despite the number of tents in their encampment, Cara had been spending her nights by the fire close to Kahlan’s tent. She suspected the blonde was only sleeping when Berdine or Nyda were taking a turn at watch. Between that and spending her days riding mostly with the soldiers, it felt like they hadn’t seen each other in days.

She turned to leave and Kahlan jumped forward to stop her, grabbing her arm. 

“You should stay in here.” Perhaps asking the person she should be keeping distance from to stay close wasn’t the soundest course of action, but Kahlan found the thought of being away from Cara right now hollow. Just because she could not have _more_ with Cara, should not mean she had to give up their closeness, should it? Right now she really needed the comfort of her friend. 

Cara just looked uncomfortable so Kahlan looked at the bed and forced a laugh, “the soldiers laid down enough hay to comfortably sleep four.”

The blonde’s mouth twisted into a leering smirk, “so you _would_ like me to invite Berdine and another sister back in?”

Kahlan felt her ears burn. “Stop that. I just want you.” The burn spread from her ears to her cheeks as she realized how her words sounded, and both their eyes went to the Confessor’s hand still grasping Cara’s forearm. She quickly dropped it and took a step back. “I miss you Cara. It has been a lonely couple days.”

Cara frowned. “I haven’t gone anywhere Kahlan.” Kahlan just stared at her until she huffed. “It would not serve you well with the Mord-Sith if I am seen to be somehow favoured.”

“Is that why you ride ahead with Captain Meiffert?” Even to Kahlan’s ear it sounded somewhat like an accusation. She picked up her tea and casually took a sip to try and cover.

“What other reason would there be?” 

That seemed obvious to Kahlan, but Cara looked genuinely confused, so she decided perhaps she should stop looking for subtext in all of Cara’s words. The Confessor loosed a sigh. “I don’t think keeping yourself away from me is going to fool anybody Cara. And frankly I don’t care if they do have a problem with it, you _are_ favoured. You are my friend, and the only person I can truly trust here, and I want you beside me.”

Again, Cara just looked at her.

“It would be easier to watch my back from here,” Kahlan decided to try a different angle. “I mean what if somebody cuts through the back of the tent when I’m sleeping?”

The blonde’s eyes widened the smallest hint, before narrowing again. Kahlan thought she had her for a moment until her eyes dropped and she spoke quietly. “I have to go speak with the Captain about the scouting once we leave the desert”

“Okay,” Kahlan said quietly, offering no other protest as Cara left the tent.

She left her tea on the table, changed into her shift, then placed one of her daggers under her pillow. She stared down at the journey book sitting atop the fur blanket mocking her. She quickly grabbed it and threw it down towards her pack before blowing out the candles. Then she climbed under the blanket and curled into a ball.

Kahlan forced her eyes shut, quiet murmurs of conversation and the crackling of fires could be heard outside. After years on the road, sounds of camp were usually soothing background noise, but tonight she found herself only straining to find one voice amongst the sounds. It was pointless of course. The soldiers had set up their tents a little further away.

A good half mark passed of Kahlan alternating between trying to sleep and staring at the light of the fire dancing across the tent wall. Her eyes finally started to drop when a wrestling of the tent had her popping back up with her dagger in hand.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” The familiar shadow moved to the other side of the bed, sat down and pulled off her boots. “Relax Confessor, if it was trouble, Nyda would have killed it six times before it made its way into the tent.” Cara laid back and pulled the covers over.

Kahlan stared down at her, still clutching her dagger. “You’re here.”

“How long do you think it takes to arrange a couple scouts?” the blonde muttered. “I’m not Richard. I didn’t have to stop to rescue a family of squirrels and build them a home.” 

Kahlan found she could only smile, as she returned her dagger to its hiding place, and again curled up on her side, this time angling herself into the blonde’s shoulder. Sleep came quickly and was sound. When she woke in the morning, she wasn’t surprised to find Cara already up and gone. Nor was she surprised to find Mord-Sith now posted on guard at either side of her tent. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my trouble chapter. Its 6000 words, and I wrote it in 6000 sittings, so hopefully it doesn't feel overly clunkly as it transitions from scene to scene. My brain was so broken, I struggled with the dialogue at times, which is usually what comes easiest to me. But we are through it now, and the next chapter already seems to be developing more smoothly. Hopefully I am leaving this block behind me now.

Cara stood in her saddle to stretch her legs as she scanned the length of the entourage she only partially trusted, then ran her fingers through her hair. It was nice to once again be free of the restrictive Mord-Sith collar and corset, and let her hair hang free. Kahlan was right. She wasn’t fooling anyone trying to play the roll of dutiful Mord-Sith and blend in with the group. Things were different. And what’s more she liked how things were. She would never admit to such sentimentality out loud but she liked who she was now. 

It was perhaps the first time in her life she could say that.

So, this morning she got up with the sun, dressed comfortably, grabbed her bow, and set out to find a meal that was not made up of dried fruit and stale bread. When she came back to camp a mark later with a small deer on her back, she felt more herself than she had in days and the strange looks from some of the other Mord-Sith didn’t even register.

What did register was Kahlan’s smile from where she sat beside the fire with Berdine looking up from a book, and a little more of the tension that had settled over the past couple days lifted away. Cara didn’t like how ridged things had been between them lately. It _had_ been her own fault. In a moment of weakness, she let slip _her_ weakness. 

But what was done was done. Kahlan knew now, and despite some odd actions of late that could be taken as a hint such affections were reciprocated, she did exactly what Cara should have expected if her traitorous _feelings_ did not lend false hope, and distanced herself. At least until last night when Kahlan had stopped just short of ordering her to stay in her tent. 

Cara shook her head. She would never get the handle on Kahlan’s emotions. Unfortunately, she seemed condemned to a lifetime of their whims. She watched the Confessor swaying in her saddle as she rode just ahead. There were worse fates, she supposed.

Both the Confessor and Berdine were half buried in their books, barely paying attention to the road. Which is why Cara had positioned Nyda, Vika and Vale around the oblivious pair, as well as herself. Berdine had helped Kahlan translate the first two pages of her bond-book that morning. Kahlan took notes like an eager school girl and now trotted along side the brunette Mord-Sith, leaning over now and then to ask questions. Whatever Cara had imagined would happen when she showed up at the People’s Palace asking for help, this scenario had not even entered her mind in jest. 

Nyda was looking back at her with a questioning brow, and Cara realized the corner of her mouth had quirked up. She huffed at herself, schooled her features and urged her horse forward beside the Confessor. Nyda continued to smirked at her and silently fell back to cover her spot. 

Kahlan was frowning, chewing her lip, staring intently down at her book and papers she had pinned against the horn of her saddle. It was a good thing Mord-Sith didn’t use words such as adorable or endearing or they might have been used now. “You know if you fall off your horse, nobody is stopping to pick you up,” she said instead.

A bright smile and even brighter blue eyes rose up to meet her. “You would leave me to be scavenged off the desert floor by some coyote?” The Confessor’s expression morphing into feigned insult.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cara grinned back, pulling the smile back onto Kahlan’s face. “The Gars will get you long before the sun goes down and the dogs come out.”

Kahlan’s eyes narrowed, but the corners of her lips betrayed her and refused to hide her smile as she tapped at her book. “Careful Cara, it won’t be long and I _will_ be making you slap yourself in the face for such insubordination.”

Cara leaned in challengingly, “I would love to see you try Confessor.” 

Kahlan only leaned forward a little and grinned back. That’s when Cara noticed Berdine riding on the other side, not even vaguely trying to hide her amusement. She tried to ignore it by looking away only to catch Nyda still smirking at her from the back.

Cara scoffed inwardly and brought her attentions back to the Confessor. “I have no doubt you’ll have the bond mastered and be compelling my Sisters into pink frilly dresses in no time,” she said a little louder than required, appreciating the smirk drop off Nyda’s face out of the corner of her eye.

“If I remember correctly, I didn’t even need the bond to compel you to that,” Kahlan grinned. Nyda’s smirk was back, accompanied by a questioning brow, and Cara had to wonder when she forgot how to keep her mouth shut. Mercifully, Berdine just shook her head and kept reading.

“No, you only had to get yourself kidnapped by the most asinine castle full of idiots on the face of the earth. I don’t suppose anything in that book can tell you how to compel anyone who speaks in dactylic terametre into a wall?”

“No, but the power of the Mother Confessor will ensure the Margrave will spend the rest of his days behind one.”

Cara grinned ferally, “well then, maybe all the cursed rhyming was worth it.”

Kahlan’s eyes narrowed once more. “You mean besides helping me escape?”

“Meh.”

“Wait.” Cara groaned inwardly, as Berdine perked up again from her book. “Cara spoke in _rhyme_? Poetry to your great love perhaps?” The annoying brunette not so subtly made eyes at the back of the Confessor’s head.

“ _Actually,”_ Cara pushed out through a forced smile which quickly turned genuine, “you remember that peddler who was selling fake medicines to the army? Let’s just say it was an ode to the time we spent together.”

Berdine barked out a laugh.

Kahlan glanced between them. “I don’t even want to know.”

“Never fear Mother Confessor,” the brunette Mord-Sith declared, “we shant cut off any fingers without your permission.”

“Cara!” Kahlan looked at her sharply.

“What? I had to find his supplier,” Cara shrugged half-amused before steering the conversation to a safer topic. “So, I guess this means you are well on your way to mastering the secrets of the bond?”

“Hardly,” Kahlan laughed. “I can’t even go four words without bombarding Berdine with a dozen questions. But it is very interesting. These first pages talk about Alric Rahl’s idea of creating the bond to protect D’hara from the Dream Walkers, and ensuring a gifted heir. It was supposed to usher in a symbiotic relationship between the Lord Rahl and his people, making everyone stronger together.”

“Well that turned out well,” Cara said somewhat bitterly.

Kahlan hummed her agreement. “Ironically though, it seems the creation of the bond may be why Darken Rahl had to go searching for his black Sorcerer’s Sand. It sounds like Alric gathered just about every last grain in the New World to enact the spell to create the bond.”

“Finally, a Rahl does something useful,” Cara deadpanned causing Kahlan to laugh again.

“What about Richard?”

“Well I know the kittens appreciate him.”

The Confessor shook her head and smiled before turning to face Berdine. “I actually have a question about Sorcerer’s sand. I was taught it came from the bones of dead Wizards.”

“And they call Mord-Sith deranged,” Cara mumbled.

Berdine smirked. “It does, when Wizards give their Life Fire, the bones remaining are crystalized and turn into the sand. The Great War was an endless source of the stuff.”

“But if it comes from dead wizards,” Kahlan asked as she gestured at the spell book Berdine was working through, “where did they find the sand to perform that spell _before_ there were any wizards?”

“Probably the very creatures that helped them invoke the spell. Any creature of powerful magic can produce the sand. The world was once awash with all manner of magical Fae. If it is in a fairy tale, it was probably once real. The histories in the library go back tens of thousands of years. You would be amazed.”

“I wish I could have spent more time there. But I fully intend on using my privileges in the Wizard’s Keep when I return to Aydindril to ransack their library.”

Cara watched her Sister’s eyes light up like a child on Yule. Apparently Kahlan noticed as well.

“You are welcome to join me Berdine,” she said with a tilt of her head. “It’s the least I could do after all you have done for me.”

A playful smirk pulled across the Mord-Sith’s face, “I showed you mine, now you’ll show me yours?”

Cara rolled her eyes.

“Something like that,” Kahlan replied as the reflexive blush slowly overtook her complexion.

Berdine’s smirk fell away as she cracked her neck. “And they would be okay with you wandering into the Wizards Keep, into Aydindril, with a Mord-Sith?”

“Another of the privileges of being me. I don’t have to care if they are.” Berdine shifted in her saddle, but Kahlan answered her concerns before she asked them. “I am not under any illusions that bringing a pack of Mord-Sith back to Aydindril with me won’t be met with resistance Berdine. But you are all here at great risk to yourselves at my request, and should any of you wish to continue to follow me when this is over, a place _will_ be made for you in Aydindril, and it _will_ be accepted.” Kahlan was sitting straight in her saddle speaking with all the authority of the Mother Confessor, and Cara noted, had drawn the attention of some of the other Sisters riding nearby. “And if you wish to only come see the books,” she softened her tone, “then you will be welcomed as a friend and thanked for your contribution to our collective freedom.”

If Cara didn’t know better, she would swear a slight blush now tinted _Berdine’s_ cheeks. Mord-Sith were not used to being treated with anything but the expectation of absolute compliance from their Lord. Never appreciation, definitely never given choice. And the Lord Rahl was more likely to skin you alive just because he could, than to welcome you as a friend for any reason. In fact, any welcoming at all meant you were in for a long and unpleasant night.

The brunette Mord-Sith suddenly chuckled, “it might be worth the visit just to see a few bureaucrats wet their pants.” She leaned to look past Kahlan to Cara. “I assume you will be setting up shop in the great city of the Confessors when this is all done?”

Cara shot Berdine a scowl before Kahlan’s gaze quickly spun around to meet her. Cara had never been good with recognizing emotions, but she could practically taste the hope bleeding out of the Confessor’s eyes. Kahlan had gently inquired from time to time on Cara’s grand plans for a post Rahl world. Cara had always deflected. Mord-Sith do not belong in Aydindril. She couldn’t imagine what she would do there. Spend her days dodging venomous gazes and dying of boredom from the lack of things to kill. 

Kahlan held her with clear blue eyes. 

She couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. 

“Well I could hardly keep the Mother Confessor from walking into the moat and drowning all the way now from D’hara, could I?” she finally muttered grumpily. 

“Why do I feel like the last thing you will be doing is keeping the Mother Confessor dry?” Berdine replied with a cocky grin and a raised eyebrow.

Normally Cara would have launched off her horse and taken both her Agiels to her loud mouth Sister, but it was apparent by the blinding smile stretched across the Confessor’s face, the meaning behind that little remark didn’t even register. She just stared and beamed. Like Cara had just vanquished an army in her name, or saved those chattering bugs all over again.

And Cara couldn’t look away.

“Perhaps you could make Cara the official Poet Laureate of Aydindril,” came a teasing voice from ahead. Vika was staring back at them with a sly grin of her own. Everyone was a comedian today.

Cara scowled. Kahlan laughed and continued her bright gaze, tilting her head fondly. “I am sure we can find an appropriate use for your talents Cara.”

Berdine opened her mouth again but Cara caught her eye and shot daggers, daring her to finish her thought. Berdine seemed satisfied with the reaction and returned to her book, not dropping the obnoxious grin from her face.

“Go back to your studies Confessor,” Cara grunted. “The sooner you can bring my Sisters back in line, the better.” That just garnered smirks from everyone. She sighed defeatedly, “I’m going to make the rounds.”

“Have fun dear,” Berdine muttered without looking up. Kahlan smiled again as Cara shook her head and fell back, letting Nyda retake her position beside the Confessor.

Truth was she couldn’t be too upset about it. The fact that some of her fellow Mord-Sith were already comfortable enough to show a joking ease around the Confessor was a good sign. Yes, her Sisters would never have dared such behaviour in front of their previous Lord, but Kahlan would never be comfortable leading with the kind of cruel indifference that kept the Mord-Sith underfoot. She knew Kahlan would want their trust and respect, and for the most part she seemed off to a good start in acquiring it. 

With some exceptions. 

Cara let her eyes drift to the riders bringing up the rear of the procession then slowly let her horse drop to the back of the group. Hania and Laurin had been speaking quietly to each other for some time, and she didn’t trust it. Honestly she was shocked to learn Hania had chosen the bond. The woman had an even greater distrust of Confessors than most Mord-Sith. Before she had been taken, her much older brother had been tried and sentenced to Confession for murder. Her family never believed it. That it had been some kind of trick or spell that led him to confess to the crime. Being trained as Mord-Sith only fed that rage, and she had been one of the most eager and ruthless of her Sisters at Valeria. 

“Eyes up Sisters,” Cara ordered. “We are getting close to Gar territory.”

Laurin just eyed her and slunk away on her horse. Hania however bit back with a harsh laugh, “ _Sisters_? I see two Agiels, a dagger and half a uniform, not to mention dragging around an animal carcass like a pet. Are you even Mord-Sith anymore? If following the Mother Confessor is going to turn us into this,” she gestured at Cara, “perhaps we are better off as Gar food.”

“Shove it out your hole Hania. You can choose which one.”

Cara glanced over her shoulder to find Galina moving in towards them, chewing on a piece of venison from her catch that morning.

“Nobody forced you to be here,” she continued, “and as far as I’m concerned Cara can wear whatever the hell she wants if she is going to bring us fresh meat. Frankly after two years stationed at the palace, I would give up whatever part of my uniform the Lady Amnell requires if it means I can have steak again” 

Cara couldn’t help a chuckle. Rahl decided since he was a vegetarian, everyone else around him had to be as well. The first thing she did whenever she left the People’s Palace on assignment was track down the nearest tavern for a large piece of meat. Funny, after a year on the road eating a diet of mostly meat and berries, she found she looked forward to the taverns for the vegetables. “If you’d like Galina, we can steal a bow off our soldier friends and I can show you how to catch all the meat you want.”

“Even steak?”

“Well the cow is a _fierce_ beast. Perhaps we should start with a rabbit or duck.”

“I am Mord Sith, Mistress Cara, I fear no beast. We can start with Shadrin.”

The last thing they needed was a camp full of Mord-Sith fighting over Shadrin liver. Besides, “Shadrin tastes like ass Galina.”

“Pathetic,” came a disgusted murmur from Hania. “We are Mord-Sith. You’ve reduced us all to licking the boots of a Confessor.”

Cara angled her horse further so she was riding directly beside the bitter blonde. “If this is so awful for you Hania, feel free to return to the palace. Or perhaps slunk off and find that bastard Rahl. I am sure he would welcome you back and not just to lick his _boots_.” She saw her Sister’s hand grasp her Agiel, but she didn’t pull it. 

“Just because she’s decided you’re an adequate play thing Cara, does not mean she wont take pleasure in striking us all down when she learns of our role in Valeria.”

Cara couldn’t stop the short laugh that escaped.

“I’m glad the painful deaths of all your Sisters is amusing to you _Mistress_ Cara,” Hania chewed out bitterly. “Nice to see how far we’ve fallen since you started playing hero. Need I remind you that you led that raid?”

“Oh, I remember,” she gestured towards the Confessor with her head. “I killed her sister there.”

“You think its wise to share this with me? Do you not fear I will run to your precious Mother Confessor and ruin your standing as favoured? Do you know...”

“She already knows Hania.”

The other blonde’s mouth snapped shut a moment before looking at her wearily, then glanced back up at Kahlan. “You really expect me to believe you’d be standing here if she knew that?”

Cara smirked but declined to share the details, instead stroked an Agiel at her hip. “You asked if I was even Mord-Sith anymore and I’d be happy to demonstrate that I very much am.” The other blonde scoffed but she continued unperturbed, scanning the horizon as she spoke. “I am and will always be Mord-Sith, but I am also Cara, and I am proud to be both. The Mother Confessor will not suffer pets, Hania.” She took in her surly Sister who was watching her closely behind the unreadable mask of the Mord-Sith. “Figure out how to think for yourself because you can be who you want now. Even if its to walk through life with a stick up your ass.”

With that Cara nudged her horse forward and slowly began moving back up towards Berdine and the Confessor. Her eyes flittered to the west again, at a small dot of movement she had noticed in the distance. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. But before she could alert her Sisters to keep an eye on it, all hell broke loose.

A flash and a shadow caught the corner of her eye, and she turned just in time to see an enormous Short-Tailed Gar drop from the sky, directly in front of the Confessor. Fortunately, these D’haran horses were trained for battle and most held their ground, but the beast landing so close to Kahlan startled her mount and it reared up, knocking her to the ground. 

Cara was off her horse almost as fast as Kahlan was back on her feet with her daggers drawn, deftly dodging the first swing from the Gar’s enormous clawed fist, swiping at it with her blades as it past. The howl the creature unleashed indicated the Confessor had hit her mark.

In the back of her mind, Cara knew Mord-Sith and soldiers alike were rushing in to help the Confessor, but as she pulled her bow and quiver from her saddle bag, the only thing she could see was Kahlan. Kahlan and the towering beast, spreading its wings and lunging forward with all its mass and teeth. Her heart was in her throat as she knocked her first arrow and unleashed it, already knowing it would reach its target too late.

That’s when a blur of red entered the picture from the side, ramming into the Confessor and knocking her away. Even as her arrow hit the Gar squarely in the chest, it continued its path, barrelling right into the Mord-Sith that had taken the Confessor’s place, tearing into her with claws and teeth. Cara pulled another arrow and released it, following by another, and another. Swiftly walking towards the Gar, filling its chest with arrows until it looked like it had quills.

The beast reared up, but before it could lash out again, several soldiers had moved in from behind and began going to work with their swords. Before Cara could even close the distance, Berdine was dragging the Confessor away from the slaughter by her shoulders, and Nyda and Vale moved in between them and the Gar for added protection as it spun and slashed against its inevitable fate. In a matter of seconds, the whole thing was over and the Gar was dead, leaving an angry swarm of blood flies picking at the carnage left behind. 

Cara came skidding to a halt and dropped in front of the Confessor who was half kneeling, half sitting on the ground in front of Berdine pressing a hand to her forehead. “Are you alright?” she asked as she inspected the Confessor for damage.

“Yeah, I just landed hard when…” Kahlan’s eyes flashed up, “Vika!”

Cara glanced over at the prone form of red leather she could see through the crowd of legs now surrounding them in a protective ring, then up at Berdine who’s eyes were returning from their own inspection of the scene. Berdine shook her head stiffly.

The answer must have been clear in her eyes when they returned to the Confessor because she tried to launch herself to her feet, only to hiss and stumble when she put pressure on her leg.

Cara caught her waist, steadying her from where she crouched on one knee, then quickly pushed aside the slit in Kahlan’s travelling dress. An angry rake of claw marks were dripping blood down the Confessor’s leg. “I thought you said you were okay?” she gently prodded around the wound. It didn’t seem deep, but it would definitely need to be cleaned as soon as possible. Gar wounds would fester easily if not treated.

“It’s just a scratch Cara,” the Confessor replied distractedly as her head spun back towards the fallen Mord-Sith. A barely audible whimper escape as her blue eyes returned, pain seeping through for just a moment as Cara rose in front of her. Then she took a deep breath, straightened herself, and with a slight limp, pushed through the mass of people to stand before Vika’s body.

The woman lay on her back, eyes closed, face almost peaceful, but that was as far as the serenity went. Her left arm had been completely torn off. Her leathers shredded and what appeared to be a large bite had been torn out of her right shoulder. Cara watched Kahlan look on silently a moment before quietly uttering the question she already knew the answer too. “Can you revive her with the breath of life?”

“I’m sorry Kahlan, the damage is far beyond its power,” she answered quietly, receiving a small nod in return.

Berdine cleared her throat from behind, drawing their attention. “I am sorry Mother Confessor, but we must move on. If there are any other Gars in the area, they will surely be attracted by this.” 

Kahlan nodded again and Mord-Sith and soldiers alike began moving back to their mounts. “ _Where are you all going?”_

Berdine stopped with a confused frown, “we will push hard for a mark, then stop to see to the wounds. Agiels are good for many things, but fighting Gars is not one of them. If too many show up, we will suffer more loss.”

“I understand that Berdine, but what about Vika?”

The brunette’s head bowed as if in shame. “I am sorry Mother Confessor, but the wounds are too great to revive her.”

“That’s not,” Kahlan huffed out a frustrated breath and turned to Cara. “She saved my life, we can’t just leave her on the side of the road!”

Cara nodded her head, “Of course not Kahlan.” She turned to the soldiers hovering over the Gar in case it spontaneously sprung back to life. “Captain, have your men wrap the body and put it in the wagon, quickly, we need to get away from here.” 

“Of course Mistress Cara,” he nodded grimly and waved to two of his men to tend to the task. When she turned back all her Sisters were now openly staring at the Confessor in disbelief. “What are you waiting for,” she barked at them. “Let’s get a move on! Come on,” she said more quietly to the Confessor as she led her towards her own mount, not touching but staying near in case she needed support, “we are switching horses.” 

“It was hardly the horse’s fault a Gar almost landed on its head. And besides, if its so unsafe, then why should I let _you_ ride him?”

Cara let out a long sigh, “just get on the horse Kahlan.” The Confessor gave her a sad smile and Cara thanked the Creator she wasn’t going to get an argument on this. But Kahlan stopped as she lifted her hand up to grasp the saddle, and her sad blue eyes returned.

“They were just going to leave her here,” she said quietly. “We were just all… I thought…”

“They were only doing what has always been expected of them Kahlan,” Cara explained quietly. “Death was either considered the ultimate achievement of our duty in the name of the Lord Rahl, or the ultimate failure. We would be punished if we unnecessarily waisted time on the fallen. They were not to be grieved.”

Kahlan chewed her lip and gave a small nod then turned back to mount the horse, only this time when she went to pull up, she faltered and stumbled back. Cara was instantly behind her, supporting her back and hip.

“Maybe we better not wait to tend to that leg Confessor.”

“No,” she shook her head, “its not that, I think somebody just...” Kahlan trailed off.

“What?” Cara subconsciously tightened her grasp, “what’s the matter?”

Kahlan turned around meeting Cara’s concerned frown. “I think two Mord-Sith just bonded to me.”

Cara’s brows rose in surprise.

“Do you think Hally has made it to the temple already?” 

The blonde shook her head, “She has only been on the road eight days. Even riding hard each day, it would be near impossible to make it that quickly.”

“Who else could it be? Do you think the Mord-Sith being held at the People’s Palace changed their mind?”

Cara thought about Alina and the other two left behind. It was unlikely but possible. “Maybe. Or maybe some Sisters returned to the Palace and the others decided to fill them in?”

“Maybe we should ask Berdine?”

Cara glanced at her Sister up ahead, atop her horse with a half a dozen Mord-Sith, waiting for the Confessor to mount up so they could form around her. “No. I do not wish to give her false hope. The moon is in four days. She will only stew until then, and then stew after.” She bobbed her head, “you know, more than she probably already is. Let Hally bring the news whatever it may be.”

“Okay,” Kahlan agreed, as her eyes came to rest on the red leathered hands still supporting her waist. Cara snatched them back like they were on fire, then gestured lamely at the horse.

“Let’s go. We’ve been here too long already.”

Kahlan nodded and pulled herself up into her saddle, then pushed herself to join the other Mord-Sith. As Cara made her way to retrieve Kahlan’s horse from Galina, who had been waiting nearby with the reins, she took one last glance at the west, and the small speck of movement still growing in the distance. Whatever it was, it was about to be left far behind.

\-------------------------

They rode hard for over a mark before stopping to treat Kahlan’s and some of the soldier’s wounds from their skirmish with the Gar, then quickly mounted and pushed the pace again the rest of the day, to put as much space between them and Gar territory as possible. Now back in the shelter of the woods, they stopped to make camp near a small stream that cut through a wide valley.

Setting up camp with Mord-Sith was always efficient and business-like but there was an extra weight hanging over everything that evening as they went to task, and very little talking.

Cara found Kahlan gently brushing down her white stallion that was tied to a tree not far from the tents. She was murmuring to him softly, as if trying to convey that she did not blame him for knocking her to the ground. Kahlan always seemed to enjoy horses, always taking an extra minute to scratch their necks, or offer them a treat when they were mounting up for the day. She wondered if it was a distraction the Confessor enjoyed while tending to her duties in Aydindril. Wondered what it would be like to go for a ride with her when they weren’t busy running after something, or from something. 

She shook her head and scoffed at herself. Berdine would have a field day if she could hear her daydreaming such sentimental nonsense. She coughed lightly to garner the Confessor’s attention. Kahlan’s smiled softly when she turned, but it quickly faded away when Cara spoke. “They’re ready.”

“Thank you, Cara,” she said sadly, took a deep breath then straightened. 

Cara followed the Confessor the short way up a small hill that overlooked the valley. Captain Meiffert nodded solemnly in greeting, and he and two other soldiers moved away from the grave they had dug that now held the remains of Mistress Vika.

She stood quietly behind Kahlan as she looked down into the grave at her fallen Sister. Cara waited patiently for the Confessor to do what she needed and couldn’t help thinking on her own memories of Vika. They hadn’t been stationed together often, but she remembered her as a fierce and determined Sister. Always serious. That morning was perhaps the first time she had ever heard her make a joke. She smirked inwardly and decided to keep to herself that one-time Vika had been in charge of her punishment. Mistress Vika was very skilled with the Agiel.

Her gaze drew back to the Confessor. Even though they had done nothing but face danger since the day they met, somehow the idea of Kahlan falling had never truly felt like a possibility. That they would find a way out of whatever trouble they were in was all but assured. But when the Gar dropped out of the sky and charged, Cara had been suddenly taken with the image of life with a giant Kahlan sized hole in it and she hated everything about it. She owed Vika a debt she could never repay.

Lost in her own thoughts, Cara only half noticed as the rest of her Sisters had assembled at the top of the hill. Now they were all there, looking somewhat sullen and uncomfortable. Unsure was a rare look for a Mord-Sith but here more than a dozen stood, gazes shifting awkwardly between the Mother Confessor and their lost Sister.

Kahlan’s head rose up and she greeted them with a sad smile.

Berdine stood in the front of the group and lifted her hand a little, revealing the quiet hum of an Agiel. “It is Vika’s,” she said quietly, “I think she would want it with her.”

In a different time or place, Cara imagined Kahlan would be aghast at someone wishing to spend their eternal rest with an instrument of torture. Now she just gave a small nod of understanding. Berdine stepped forward to place it with her Sister, but Kahlan stepped in front of her and reached out her own hand in expectation. A brief look of surprise crossed the Mord-Sith’s face, before extending the Agiel and allowing the Confessor to take it from her.

As Kahlan turned and moved towards the grave, she kept all the pain she must have been feeling from the weapon off of her face. She slowly knelt down beside the woman now wrapped in linen and placed the Agiel where her heart would be. “Thank you, Mistress Vika. May the Good Spirits watch over you.”

Then she rose, a single tear descending her cheek, and walked back to her tent. A dozen sets of eyes following her path in disbelief.

\--------------

A quarter mark later Cara made her way into Kahlan’s tent with a small tin of ointment to treat the burn she knew must be covering the Confessor’s palm. Kahlan was sitting on the side of the bed, already in her shift, with the fabric pulled up high, inspecting the slash left there by the Gar. Cara tried her best not to stare at the expanse of leg on display. Kahlan finally noticed her there and quickly pulled down the shift.

“How is it?” she asked briskly, taking off her gloves and tucking them in her belt.

“Okay. Its not bleeding anymore and I don’t think its infected.”

“Well you can put some of this on it,” she said, dropping before the Confessor, and holding up the small tin between her fingers. “After I see to your hand.”

“My hand?” Kahlan asked innocently. Cara just rolled her eyes.

“There is a reason why we wear gloves Confessor,” she replied and held her own hand out expectantly.

Kahlan let out a small huff then presented her bright red palm to Cara. There was no blistering, but she was sure it still stung like hell. Especially to somebody not used to the pain of the Agiel. Cara opened the tin, and scooped some ointment onto two fingers before bringing them to Kahlan’s hand. She gently began moving her fingers in a slow circular motion across the palm, from one side to the other and back again. A small hum escaped the Confessor, and Cara realized she had been at the task for far longer than was strictly necessary. She quickly lowered Kahlan’s hand back to her lap, but stayed where she was kneeling in front of the Confessor.

“Are you okay Kahlan?”

“Yes, thank you,” Kahlan said softly, still looking at her hand. “I can barely feel it now.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Sky blue eyes rose up sadly. “She… what good... She died for me.”

“That’s what Mord-Sith do Confessor.” A flash of anger danced across Kahlan’s face, but Cara continued. “She would have been proud of her choice Kahlan. And that is exactly what it was. That’s what you gave her. We will honour that choice by seeing this through and making sure Rahl never again holds power over another person. What you did today,” Cara looked at the floor as she forced out her words, “made me proud. For the first time since they were taken, they have been told they matter.” The silence lingered on, then a small smile curled at her lips. “If you thought they were maniacal about their duty before, you are truly in for it now.”

When she looked back up tears were freely falling down the Confessor’s cheeks and without thinking she brought a hand up to wipe them away. For a moment they just stared as Cara gently brushed away the drops. Her thumb trailed lower, chasing away a tear as it passed over the scar above the Confessor’s lips and she found herself asking the question she had always wondered. 

“How did you get this?” she whispered.

Kahlan suddenly smiled. “Sneak attack in the garden.”

Cara withdrew her hand with a frown. Apparently she was going to need to have a long talk to the Home Guard if somebody was able to get into the Confessor’s gardens. “I assume you made the bastard pay for his poor life decisions.”

The Confessor’s grin widened, “I threw him over the wall.”

Cara’s brow rose. She knew the Confessor was strong but to hurdle a man. “You must have been quite angry at being caught by surprise?”

Kahlan hummed, “Extremely. I was in my fifteenth summer and had just finished my first official session taking petitions. When I was done, I was on top of the world. Filled with youthful dreams of changing the world with my influence. I went running out to the gardens to find Dennee, and was so caught up in myself I wasn’t paying attention. That’s when it popped up from the grass and bashed me right in the face.”

“The assassin?”

The Confessor shook her head with a laugh, “the rake.”

Cara’s eyes popped wide.

“I stepped on a stupid metal garden rake the groundskeeper had left laying on the lawn. I was so mad. I picked it up and chucked it over the wall. The noise alerted Dennee, Mistress Sanderholt, and a half a dozen Home Guard, who immediately began locking down the Palace when they saw my state.”

Cara was grinning now as the mental image of a young Kahlan, dripping blood down her shiny white Confessor’s dress, having a temper tantrum over a garden rake.

“I was so embarrassed,” she continued, “that I wouldn’t let a wizard near me to heal it. I brooded in my room for days.” Kahlan gently brushed a finger over the mark. “Had I thought about the scarring perhaps I wouldn’t have been so proud.”

“I like it,” Cara said before she could stop herself. She quickly grunted and grabbed the tin of ointment off the bed. “You should put some of this on your leg.” She pushed the tin into the Confessor’s hand then leered, “Unless you would prefer I do it.”

“I think I can manage, thanks.” The expected blush cut away some of the tension, and Cara rose while brushing her hands off on her pants. 

“Well then, I will go see to the scouts and be back shortly.” She nodded once at the now smiling Confessor, content she had done her job, and left to see to her task.

Later when she returned to the tent, Kahlan appeared to already be asleep. But when she quietly climbed under the covers, the Confessor instantly rolled over and tucked herself into Cara’s side. Obviously still wrestling from the day and in need of comfort, Cara slowly wrapped her arm around the Confessor’s back and pulled her tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Rahl vegetarianism is stolen from the books.  
> In the books, wizards who use their gifts to kill a lot tend to develop aversions to eating Meat, as a balance for all the killing. Darken Rahl had it, and when Richard came into his gift, developed it as well.  
> Rahl didn't let the people around him eat meat because he was disgusted by it.  
> It isn't really important to the overall arch, but used it as a plot device.
> 
> Also I am so sorry Vika! Thank you for your sacrifice.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be posting chapters as I finish them now, since I am long out of prewritten chapters. Baring unexpected life, or more writers block, you should still get at least one a week. But that also means the chapters wont marinate as much before my final edit, so hopefully that doesn't harm the quality My goal is still to be about 25 chapters, but it might run longer now, as my chapters seem to be getting longer. I have been blowing my 4-5000 word target out of the water lately. Even with 6000K words, I had to break a significant chunk off of this one, and push it into the next, and then rejig my plan to keep future POV's where I wanted. So Creator knows how long it will actually be, but we ARE getting there.

Kahlan awoke to a loud ruckus outside the tent. She sat up and took a moment to centre herself. Despite sleeping quite soundly, she was still a little tired. The previous day had been exhausting both physically and emotionally. She looked to the expected empty spot in the bed beside her, and smiled at the reason she had slept so well. When Cara had come to bed the night before, Kahlan couldn’t stop herself from turning into her comforting warmth.

It was starting to become reflex. A habit. One which Kahlan should not be indulging in. But after the emotional drain of the day, she couldn’t help herself. She _had_ to help herself. Last night, when she interjected herself into Cara’s space, she didn’t pull away, or stiffen, or huff. Instead the Mord-Sith wrapped an arm around her and pulled her tight. Kahlan had been half asleep but managed to temper her surprise, then burrowed her head further into Cara’s side. Falling back asleep consumed by the smell of leather and fresh air and _Cara_. 

Creator, how was she ever going to help herself?

Another thump and a grunt from outside pulled Kahlan from her thoughts. She swung her feet off the bed and reached for her travelling dress. As she started to pull off her shift, Berdine swept into the tent.

“Mother Confessor, you should come out here.”

Kahlan quickly pulled the material back down as far as it would go. “Berdine, you wanna knock?”

“But there is no door,” the brunette responded as if it were obvious.

“I was about to dress.”

“There is no need to be embarrassed Mother Confessor, you are very attractive.”

Kahlan flushed and took a breath. She knew Berdine was only trying to nettle her. “What’s happening?”

“Hania invited a guest to breakfast.”

Kahlan wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that meant. Coming from Hania, it couldn’t be good news. “Where’s Cara?”

“I’m not sure exactly. I saw her coming out of the Captain’s tent this morning.”

“What?” Kahlan’s chest tightened as she attempted to keep emotion from her face and voice.

Berdine’s lip twitched. “Yes, she was with Galina and Hannah. They were flexing their new bows, grinning like children with a new toy. Then they all disappeared into the woods about a mark ago.”

“Oh,” Kahlan was almost ashamed of the amount of relief that swept through her. “That’s, good. For Cara I mean.” Berdine regarded her with those sharp blue eyes that Kahlan was certain saw right through her. “I am glad some of the other Mord-Sith are getting comfortable with her, that is. Her Sisters are important to her.” Why couldn’t she stop rambling? “Um, so I’ll get dressed,” she waved at her clothes, “and be out in a minute.”

“Of course, Mother Confessor.” 

Berdine didn’t move.

“You’re dismissed Berdine.”

The brunette smirked, “of course Mother Confessor,” then ducked back out of the tent.

\---------

When Kahlan emerged, Berdine and Nyda were waiting. They flanked her sides as she walked a short way across the camp to where Hania stood, a lanky man kneeling in front of her. Her Agiel threatened at the side of his neck. The man had dirty blonde hair, and wore plain brown pants and a simple dark brown shirt. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual about him. Hania’s ever untrusting gaze greeted her. 

“What’s this about?” Kahlan asked coolly.

“This man,” Hania pressed her Agiel into his back and the man yelped, “is a messenger for Rahl.”

“I am not!”

Hania pressed harder causing him to flail forward into the dirt.

“Let him speak.”

The Mord-Sith scowled and dragged the man back to his knees.

“Who are you then?”

“Please I’m just a farmer. My name is Gregor. I was on my way to my brother’s near Alness to visit, I…”

The angry blonde Mord-Sith pulled the man back by his hair. “He is lying. But after an hour with me he will be begging me to _allow_ him to tell you the truth.”

Kahlan regarded the man. He was definitely hiding something. But that didn’t necessarily mean he was one of Rahl’s lackies, or deserved the treatment he was getting. “What makes you believe this man came from Rahl?”

Hania looked like she wanted to spit venom for having to explain herself but chewed out her response. “Because he walks like a soldier.” She reached behind to her belt and presented a small hunting knife, “he carries the blade of a Dragon Corp. And because men have been coming down this road from the south like clockwork since we left the People’s Palace.”

Kahlan glanced beside her to Berdine who only shrugged and shook her head in response. She turned back to Hania. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because we have been crossing one of these _farmers,”_ she pulled on his hair again, which she was yet to let go of, “every twenty-five leagues of road. Two days of hard walking.” She threw the man’s head forward. “I saw the last one mid-day yesterday, and with how hard we pushed, I estimated the next one would come down the road early this morning.” Her icy blue eyes bore into Kahlan. “Fortunately, I was up before the sun today because this one is an early riser.” 

“I’m just a simple potato farmer!”

Hania jabbed her Agiel into his back again.

“Hania,” Kahlan cautioned.

“We don’t have time for your sensitive stomach Mother Confessor,” the Mord-Sith shot back. “I will get the truth.”

“Mother Confessor?” The man looked up with wide eyes that were suddenly shifting around the camp. “Why are you travelling with Mord-Sith? Mother Confessor, plea…” He tried to push up onto his feet but Hania pulled him back and threw him to the ground.

Kahlan let out a long sigh and once again turned to Berdine for council. “What do you think?”

“Hania has always had a good eye for patterns.”

“I would trust her instincts,” Nyda added. “They have saved my life before.”

“Okay,” Kahlan agreed after a long moment.

With that Hania grinned manically and hauled the man back to a stand, pressing her Agiel into his lower back. “I will have him compliant and ready to answer your questions shortly.”

“No.”

Ice-blue eyes shot daggers into the Confessor again. “ _Mother Confessor_.” Kahlan noticed how Hania always spat her title like an insult. “If you cannot stomach Mord-Sith, why do you insist on travelling with us?”

Berdine stepped forward ready to strike, but Kahlan rest a hand on her arm and ignored the slight. “If he is truly Dragon Corp, Mistress Hania, and they are trained as well as Berdine has described to me, I imagine breaking him could be difficult.”

“You doubt my abilities?” Hania looked ready to demonstrate just how talented she was on the Confessor. 

“I don’t doubt your skills,” Kahlan replied, refusing to be intimidated. “But my way is faster.” 

Without warning she stepped up and wrapped her hand around this Gregor’s neck, only taking a brief second to register Hania’s hands flying off the man and give a quick prayer to the Creator she wasn’t destroying an innocent person. She released her hold on her magic, and it burst into the now shell of a person before his eyes could even reflect his fear.

“Mistress command me.” Gregor fell to his knees and looked up dotingly.

“Who are you?”

“Second Lieutenant Gregor Sanderson, Dragon Corp, third division, Mistress. How can I serve you?”

Kahlan’s eyes lifted up to meet Hania, who only gave a curt nod before striding off back through the camp.

\------------

“Why haven’t we broken camp yet?” Cara stepped into the tent then pulled up short at the sight that awaited her. Kahlan, Berdine and Captain Meiffert had just finished questioning Rahl’s soldier, and were sitting at the small table going over maps. Gregor stood in the corner affectionately looking on at his Mistress, eagerly waiting for the next opportunity to please her.

“We were waiting for you,” Kahlan greeted her with a small smile.

Cara leaned her bow on the canvass then wearily eyed the occupants of the tent, stalling on the unfamiliar face in the corner. 

“The Mother Confessor has a new boyfriend,” Berdine supplied.

“I can see that.” Kahlan almost laughed when Cara glared at her as if to say _I left you alone for five minutes._ “You want to fill me in?”

“Hania somehow noticed a pattern to the men we were passing on the road. Turns out they are messengers from Rahl.”

“Messengers?” Cara tilted her head.

Kahlan noticed her gripping an Agiel. She should have known Cara would take it personally that she did not notice herself. “Yes, he is sending them out every two days, on foot, in plain clothes, as to not raise the suspicion of the Brennidon Garrison that patrols these roads. Apparently Rahl is aware of the difficulty of his task and doesn’t want to draw any attention, isn’t that right Gregor?”

“Yes Mistress!” The man in the corner perked up. “Would you like me to kill him for you Mistress? Would that please you?”

“You have no idea,” Kahlan mumbled to herself. Apparently a little too loudly.

“Yes Mistress! I won’t let you down!” The man was striding towards the exit, and Cara was suddenly pulling her Agiels.

“Wait! Gregor please go back to the corner.”

“Of course, Mistress.” The man happily returned to the corner of the tent, where this time he sat down cross legged, before locking his eyes on his Mistress once more.”

“He’s harmless Cara, have a seat.”

Kahlan had to supress another laugh at the sour face of disagreement the Mord-Sith shot her, but she sauntered over to the small table to take a seat on one of the crates masquerading as chairs. Then all eyes flashed to the Captain as he rose to stand, as Cara took a seat. 

Cara’s face soured further. Berdine looked amused. Kahlan relied on her Confessor’s face to hide the wave of jealousy rolling through her insides. And the good Captain Meiffert just smiled his friendly handsome smile, completely unperturbed. “Mistress Cara,” he said as he returned to his seat. “I hope you had a fruitful hunt.”

“Hmm, well enough.” Cara flexed her gloved hands. “Once I explained to Galina and Hannah that stalking a rabbit is like stalking a man and they stopped crashing through the brush like drunken children, we were actually able to catch breakfast.”

“Well Mistress, I looked forward to whatever you have to offer.”

The statement was innocent enough. The Captain’s tone was innocent. But the way the Captain’s eyes smiled at Cara, and the corner of Cara’s mouth quirked up, and the way Berdine was staring at Kahlan like she was supposed to be doing something, Kahlan suddenly found herself pushing back at a ridiculous urge to dismiss the good Captain back to his men. Or D’hara.

“Anyway,” Kahlan said slowly, drawing attention back to the matter at hand. “Gregor here was on his way to update the Dragon Corp at the People’s Palace on Rahl’s progress, where he would then acquire a horse before carrying on to Toth’Rang to do the same.”

“If he is on foot, he must have left the Pillars…”

“Over a month ago,” Berdine finished, “and not the Pillars, but close by.” The brunette Mord-Sith leaned over and pointed to an area along the boundary to the Old World. “Rahl had a small company of about a hundred Dragon Corp waiting for him to return from his vacation. He emerged here, with Nicci, five Mord-Sith and a dozen peasants hauling sacks.”

“Five?” Cara asked curiously. “But Rikka said he all but emptied their Temple. Where are the rest of them?”

“You don’t know, do you Gregor?” Berdine looked over her shoulder at the man sitting quietly in the corner. He just ignored her and continued to stare at Kahlan.

“He said the Lord Rahl didn’t say, and wouldn’t have told him even if he had cared to ask,” Kahlan added.

“And then he started crying for failing to ask,” Berdine grinned. “I am impressed Mother Confessor. It can take me an entire day to have a man crying for failing to do something I never asked him to do.” She looked back at Cara, “although that is probably because he is too busy crying from the _general_ pain.”

Kahlan shook her head at the two Mord-Sith smiling at their ability to make grown men cry.

“So does Gregor know anything useful then?” Cara finally asked.

“Well,” Kahlan sighed, “not as much as I hoped, but some. When he left, Rahl was only starting to move towards the Pillars.”

“Does he know how Rahl plans to find the catacombs?”

“He said he saw his commanders going over some old scrolls, but didn’t get a look at them. He was simply to deliver the update that they would be beginning excavation within a few days, then join the forces in Toth’Rang and await the signal.”

Cara shifted uncomfortably on her crate. “What signal? What’s the signal for?”

“The signal is for the troops in Toth’Rang,” Kahlan pointed at the map, and dragged her finger across, “to move on Aydindril. To attack, conquer if possible, but mostly to provide distraction while Rahl, with his newly acquired powers, sneak in from the south to take the city.” She let out a long breath. “Captain Meiffert has been helping me find the most likely routes so I can tell Zedd. A full battalion of Dragon Corp can’t be ignored even if they aren’t the main threat. If they march on the city, there will be countless innocent casualties left in their path.”

When she looked up from the map, Cara was looking at her with a furrowed brow. “Rahl will not get a finger on Aydindril.”

Kahlan smiled at the steady confidence offered. “The signal,” she continued, smile dropping off, “will come from the bond.” Cara’s eyes narrowed as Kahlan made a face. “Though I’m not sure I understand entirely how.”

Berdine pushed her hands forward on the table. “Not surprisingly, the first thing the bastard intends on doing when he attains his power, is take back the bond. And since the Dragon Corp is made up of only pure blood D’harans, they will feel it the most strongly when he does.”

“How will they know its Darken Rahl and not Richard?” Kahlan asked.

“Since Rahl has lost the bond, it has been extremely weak. Like a mosquito buzzing in the background. You know its out there and could bite you at any time, but mostly its just irritating. Even if the Seeker were to start projecting his will and strengthening the connection today, it would take him time to master it. For it to grow strong enough for the people of D’hara to feel his moods and his desires.”

“Wait.” Kahlan interrupted suddenly. “You all can feel my moods and desires?”

Berdine’s lips curled up. “Don’t worry Mother Confessor, its nothing so specific. It’s more like a general feeling, and its not the same in everybody. Meiffert here is pure blood and would feel the Rahl bond more strongly than most.”

“Indeed, Mother Confessor,” the Captain confirmed. “It is more if Rahl were to have a sustained and powerful mood. It would filter down to where the people could sense it and even, if it was strong enough, influence them to feel it as well. For example, when Rahl was after Orden, we could sense some of his highs and lows. Some of us of pure blood would even become more irritable when he was particularly upset. But for those not of pureblood, the feeling would be much weaker, and for many even go unnoticed. The stronger the blood bond, the stronger the connection.”

“So, since none of us,” Berdine indicated at herself with a vague wave, “are pureblood whatever part of the Midlands you originate from, none of us are likely to feel your _desires_ so intimately.”

Kahlan had to fight with everything in her to keep her eyes from flitting towards Cara and quickly moved the conversation along. “So, Darken Rahl will what? Feel really hard like he wants to attack Aydindril and his troops will know?”

“Nothing that specific. But Rahl is a master at manipulating the bond. There will be no learning curve. He will certainly know how to project his will into the bond and amplify it. Add in whatever additional power he might attain from the sorceress, and I am sure he will be able to make his reacquaintance with the bond known to the Dragon Corp quickly. But on the upside,” Berdine gestured at the Captain, “we are sure to know when that happens as well.” 

“In the meantime,” Captain Meiffert interjected, “I think we should start travelling off the main road. The further away from D’hara we get, the more conspicuous we will appear. And Darken Rahl will likely have scouts as we move closer to the Pillars. 

“That makes sense,” Kahlan nodded her agreement. 

Captain Meiffert began rolling up the maps on the desk. “Davidson and Rutenberg both served in the south during the war. I will go seek their input on which trail to take.” He stood and pounded his fist to his heart and dismissed himself from the tent.

“So, what are we going to do with happy there?” Cara gestured at the man in the corner.

“We could kill him,” Berdine suggested.

“Nobody needs to kill anybody,” Kahlan frowned. “If we are sure he has nothing else useful to tell us, I’ll order him to deliver his message and resume his duties as if he was never here. He can discreetly gather as much information that he can, and if it gets to the point where the Dragon Corp move on Aydindril, return to me.”

Berdine sighed dramatically. “I suppose strategically that makes more sense.”

“Less fun though,” Cara added.

“Maybe we can slap him around a bit before he goes?”

Kahlan rolled her eyes. “Are you two done?”

“Of course, Mother Confessor.” Berdine rose looking pleased with herself, as always. “Since we are here a while longer, I am going to go find a bath before we get back on the road.” She stalled at the flap and looked back at the Confessor thoughtfully. “We could feel it.”

“What?” Kahlan asked, not quite keeping up with Berdine’s train of thought. “When I confessed him?”

“No,” the brunette shook her head once. “Your sorrow.”

“Oh.” Kahlan suddenly felt a little embarrassed as Berdine left the tent with a nod. “Did, you, feel… it?” she asked quietly without looking at Cara.

“I hardly need the bond to know when you are upset, Kahlan.” 

She slowly brought her eyes to the blonde, smiling slightly at the admission, but Cara was frowning at her hands on the table. Kahlan took a moment to marvel at how they had gotten to this point. Cara had gone from skirting around the edges of camp, trying to antagonize her, to her greatest source of comfort. From her natural born enemy to the person she trusted most.

Although she supposed Cara had never really stopped trying to antagonize her, she smirked. 

Kahlan took in Cara, hiding behind her blonde mane as she grumpily acknowledged caring enough to _notice,_ and she had a sudden and overwhelming need to _touch_ her.

Kahlan made to reach for her hand, but before it got anywhere, a shuffle from behind reminded her of the confessed soldier in their presence and pulled back.

Confession. Her gift and her curse. Her fingers pressed into fists and she put her hands back in her lap. 

“Are you okay?”

Kahlan found herself smiling again, “you ask that a lot.”

Cara’s scowl deepened as she turned it on her. “That’s because you’re always getting yourself into trouble.”

“Trouble?” Gregor was suddenly on his feet and hovering over Kahlan. “Are you in trouble Mistress? 

“No Gregor,” Kahlan sighed. “I’m fine, please sit back down.”

“Yes Mistress.” The man immediately sat on the floor.

Kahlan pinched her nose. “In the corner.”

“Of course, Mistress. Sorry Mistress.” Gregor quickly crawled the few feet to the corner, then returned to doting on Kahlan.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to kill him?”

Kahlan laughed. “No, I’ll send him on his way soon.”

Cara nodded slowly. “Are you sure you are okay? It’s been a while since you’ve,” she vaguely gestured to the man in the corner.

“Yeah.” 

Cara looked as if she didn’t believe her. 

“Really Cara, I’m fine. You were right.”

“Of course I was.” She slapped her hand on the table. “About what?”

“You said that we are in a war. That hesitating to use all the tools at our disposal will cost lives and maybe the fight.” Kahlan tilted her head fondly, “and that I should trust in my instincts.”

Cara hummed. “Yeah, well, we could save a lot of time if you just started each day by listening to me.”

Kahlan’s retort was cut off by yelling from outside.

“I am a Sister of the Agiel, how dare you treat me like this!”

Cara pulled her own Agiels as she got to her feet. “What now?”

Kahlan followed Cara out of the tent, shooting Gregor a “wait here” as she pushed through the flap. Outside they were met by a half dozen Mord-Sith hovering closely around another, very angry and familiar looking, Mord-Sith.

“Rikka?” Cara lowered her Agiels but did not sheath them. “What are you doing here? How did you find us?”

The anger etched in the blonde’s features melted into pure confusion. “Cara?” She glanced around at the camp full of Mord-Sith, then at Kahlan. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I told you,” she replied as if explaining to a child. “I am going to kill Darken Rahl.” 

“With them?” Rikka gestured around. “How’d you pull that off?”

“You first. What are you doing this far north? How did you find us?” 

“Well I thought I was finding the Lord Rahl,” she frowned at Kahlan, “but apparently not. What is going on? Is your Confessor a Rahl? This,” she gestured up and down at the Confessor, “was not a thing the last time I saw you.”

Galina, who was standing beside Rikka, shoved her in the shoulder. “Show more respect for the Lady Amnell”

“The Lady _what_ now?” The scowl was back. “Seriously, what is going on here? I am owed an explanation.”

“I will explain Rikka, as soon as you do.” Cara holstered her Agiels and crossed her arms, at which the other Mord-Sith visibly relaxed but did not move away. 

The tall blonde huffed. “What is there to explain? I left the temple ten days after you and your stupid ideals came trouncing through. I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would mean to be free of Rahl, or what might happen if he were to acquire the powers of a Confessor.”

“You were coming to help us?” Cara asked.

“Help? To make sure you didn’t mess it up,” Rikka smirked. “I tracked you to Galloway, then to Brennidon. Then I got some bad info and followed the wizard’s path for a week before realizing you were no longer with him.” Rikka shook her head, “I should have known you’d go for Berdine.” She glanced around, “is she here too?”

“Yes,” Cara said flatly. “Continue.”

Rikka rolled her eyes. “I eventually got back on your trail and was well north of Stowecroft when I felt it.”

“It?” Cara raised a brow.

“Yes,” Rikka pointed at Kahlan. “ _It_ , apparently. I thought it was the Lord Rahl. Or maybe your precious Seeker claiming the bond. It felt different, but the pull was strong, and it was coming from the direction of the People’s Palace. I began cutting into the highway, and the pull kept getting stronger. Until yesterday when I realized what I felt was right on the horizon. I saw your procession then you all took off. I walked through the night to catch you.” 

Kahlan exchanged a glance with Cara. Apparently, she was now a Mord-Sith magnet.

“Who the Keeper invited _your_ troublesome ass?” Berdine sauntered across camp sporting a huge grin. 

“She did.” Rikka pointed her head at the Confessor.

The brunette’s eyebrows rose into her hairline as she turned to Kahlan. “The draw is that powerful?”

“You tell me,” Kahlan shrugged. “I can feel a pull to her like I did with all of you, but it’s the same as before. In fact,” she frowned, “I didn’t really realize it until now, feeling it again, I don’t feel it with the rest of you anymore.” And she didn’t. The first few days especially, travelling around with a bunch of Mord-Sith, it was intimidating and impressive and filled with all kinds of emotions. She thought she had just gotten used to it all and hadn’t realized that strange wavy feeling, when the Mord-Sith were scrutinizing her, had disappeared. “What about you? Has the pull gotten stronger?”

She shook her head. “No. After the oath, the strange undulating feeling changed into the usual pull we feel with the bond. Only more,” Berdine paused searching for a word. “Tingly.” 

Kahlan remembered the conversation she had with Cara about what it felt like and felt her ears heat. But this would certainly explain why she never felt the strange feeling with Cara, since there was not a time when this bond existed, where she wasn’t attached to it. 

“We already knew the more Sisters that bonded to you, the stronger the attraction. There isn’t much more powerful than a Confessor’s magic,” Berdine said not for the first time. “It is not as fancy or diverse as a wizard’s power, but it is absolute. And apparently its absolutely determined to have the Mord-Sith magic bonded to it.”

“Did you Confess our magic Lady Amnell?” Galina asked with a sly grin.

Kahlan smiled at the playful analogy.

“Okay!” Rikka threw her hands up. “Somebody please tell me why all my Sisters are deferring to the Confessor? What is all this talk about a bond? And why the hell do I feel like this!”

“Calm down Rikka,” Berdine pet her on the shoulder. “You’ll give yourself an aneurism. Cara found us a way out of the bond to the Lord Rahl.”

Rikka narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she glared from Cara to Kahlan and back to Berdine. “By bonding you all to a Confessor?”

“Actually, we bonded ourselves.” Berdine slapped the tall blonde on the shoulder again. “Now its your turn.”

Rikka glowered.

“Look,” Cara cut in. “As much as I am going to enjoy watching Rikka humble herself in front of a Confessor, we have a problem here. If Rikka can feel this from a hundred leagues away, that probably means all the Mord-Sith can. Including the ones travelling with Rahl.”

Kahlan sighed at the implications. “This, combined with the soldiers on the road,” she waved lamely back at the tent where Gregor was waiting, “we will have to be extra careful from here on out. Staying off the main roads will help with the soldiers, but if any Mord-Sith can find me… not to mention we may lose the element of surprise.”

Berdine shook her head. “I am sure Rahl is already prepared for an attempt to stop him, and if your bond is pulling that strongly, Rahl will probably think its your Seeker finally claiming his birth-right. He would not expect it to be you, and he would definitely never expect us to be with you.” She pointed at herself with a grin. “We either have a lot of time, or no time. The moon is in three days. If he is successful, we will have to change our strategy. If he has yet to get his power, then we have the time to scout further ahead and move cautiously. Make sure we aren’t walking into any surprises.”

“Perhaps we should find somewhere a little less open to ambush to make camp,” Cara gestured around the open valley. “We can wait for the moon, then decide our best course of action. And it will give Richard time to catch up to us and fill us in on what he found.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Kahlan agreed. 

Berdine flipped her braid back over her shoulder and cracked her neck. “I’ll go retrieve the Captain and his maps. Hopefully we don’t get any more visitors and we can get back on the road before the season turns.” 

“Don’t worry about me,” Rikka muttered. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

Berdine slapped her arm around the surly blonde. “Come. I will catch you up and introduce you to the help.”

Kahlan rolled her eyes at Berdine referring to the Captain and his men as the help. 

“Hey,” Cara called as they started walking away. “Don’t let her take the vow without me there. I mean, I prefer it when I’ve put her down myself, but I’d never miss a chance to see a submissive Rikka brought to her knees.”

Rikka’s eyes shot back. “I’d be happy to finish what we started the last time Cara, before your Confessor interfered. We’ll see who ends up submitting.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Berdine pulled Rikka back around. “You two can whip out your Agiels and measure them later, after I’ve eaten and we’ve found a new place to camp. I’m not dragging either of your beaten asses around all day.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Mistress Berdine,” Kahlan smiled. “In my experience they just take turns monologuing until all the creatures in the woods are put to sleep by their droning.” 

Berdine laughed and pushed the scowling Rikka ahead and off towards where the soldiers were breaking down their tents. When Kahlan turned back to Cara, her insulted tilt of the head sent Kahlan into a bout of her own laughter.

\---------------

It had been another long day. They finally got back on the road, and rode hard all afternoon to reach a place close to where two of the eastern most branches of the Kern flowed together. It was about a half day’s ride from the town of Oban, so that some of the soldiers could make the trip for supplies, and somehow fit the endless opinions of a strategically dependable place to make camp. 

Before they set off, Kahlan had sent Gregor north, to continue his mission as if he never saw her. She instructed him to jog off and on the next day to make up the lost time, and not raise suspicion on his late arrival. She ordered him to continue on in his duties, protect himself if necessary, but to take no innocent life. If the Dragon Corp began their move on Aydindril, he was to sneak away and make his way to the city as fast as possible with all the information he could gather on their strategy.

Despite their constant chirping, Rikka and Cara seemed genuinely happy to be back in each other’s company. Or at least the Mord-Sith equivalent of happy, begrudgingly content. Kahlan suspected it meant a lot to Cara that another one of her Sisters had been willing to join her without any knowledge of the bond. Although the relief she could see on Rikka’s face after she made her pledge, made it clear she was not complaining that such a protection existed. Kahlan wondered if she was getting better at reading Mord-Sith, or if their desperation to be free of Rahl was just that powerful. 

Her thoughts drew to Hally. Hopefully her and Solvig were getting close to the temple, and Raina. She was not sure how Berdine would react if they failed to reach her before Rahl regained the bond. They still hadn’t told her she could feel Mord-Sith bonding from distance. She felt a little guilty holding that information back, but she thought about how she would feel in Berdine’s place. Cara was right, the speculation would drive her mad.

 _Cara was right_. Kahlan smirked as she followed the blonde into their tent. No need to stoke the woman’s ego by telling her that twice in one day. The Confessor slumped down on the hay bale bed with a sigh. “As much as I want to be done with Rahl for good, I won’t complain about staying in one place for a couple days. I feel like we’ve been jogging nonstop. I feel for the horses.”

Cara grunted her agreement. “You should get some rest,” she pulled the tin of ointment from her pack and tossed it at the Confessor. “But put some more of this on your wound first.”

Kahlan caught it and smiled up at Cara. “I can’t yet. I need to write Zedd and fill him in on everything. And let him know where Richard can meet us.”

Cara was already rummaging in Kahlan’s pack before Kahlan even finished her sentence. “I’ll do it.” I have first watch tonight anyway, and you used your powers today.” She pulled the journey book and small bowl and laid them out, then dragged a candle across the table. Cara dug back into Kahlan’s bag and dug out her shift, tossing it at the Confessor as well. “Just go to bed.”

Kahlan frowned suspiciously as she pulled it off her face. “Didn’t you just take watch a couple nights ago?” It was one of the pluses of travelling with so many people. Half-night shifts of watch could be spread out, keeping anyone from getting worn down. Of course, the Mord-Sith refused to let Kahlan take one. She tried a couple times, but the woman she tried to replace would just sit and stare at her angrily until she gave up and went back to her tent. 

Cara didn’t answer.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with how many unexpected visitors we got today does it?” Kahlan smiled challengingly. 

“Of course not,” Cara insisted as she began flipping to the last page of the book. “I have simply taken this pause in our journey to rearrange the watch order to maximize the strengths of my Sisters.” 

Kahlan just shook her head and kept smiling. 

Cara pulled her dagger across her hand, then let blood drip into the bowl while she stood hovering over the journal. As she tied a piece of linen over her wound, her brow furrowed and Kahlan abruptly remembered the last thing written in the book.

She jumped from the bed and reached for it. “You know, I’m not sleepy, I can write Zedd.”

Cara just watched her pull the journey book across the table. Then the crease in her brow flattened out. She tugged the book back, took a seat, and dipped the quill into the blood, perhaps a little harder than necessary. 

Kahlan looked on for a moment. Not knowing exactly what to say, but feeling like she needed to explain none the less. She knew Cara would take what she read the wrong way. But how could she explain it, without _explaining_ it. She ran her hands over her face then turned to put on her shift.

The Confessor could _feel_ Cara stiffly scratching her words onto the paper like judgement. She pulled her daggers and stashed them under her pillow, then sat to take off her boots. This was getting exceedingly frustrating. She should let it be. Let Cara believe what she thought. The space Kahlan wedged between them after finding out the love-loophole was a figment of Zedd’s imagination had vanished. And then some. They had circled back in on each other, and if the wall wasn’t thrown back up, it was only a matter of time before they crashed. 

Kahlan removed her gown, put on her shift, then stared at her hands. The thought of Cara believing she felt for anybody else made her ill. 

She could hear Cara blowing on the pages, and the book slam shut. 

“Cara.” Kahlan quickly stood up and turned to face her. 

“It’s fine.” Cara pushed up from the table, and tightened the cloth tied around her hand. “I told Zedd which passes to increase scouting on between Aydindril and Toth’Rang, and where Richard can find us.” She frowned again and adjusted her Agiels. “He will be back with you soon.”

“Cara,” Kahlan sighed. “I…”

“Zedd is right. I told you as much before. Richard loves you and can be with you.” The Mord-Sith cracked her neck and eyed the closed book on the table. “I don’t know why you are so obsessed over the reasons, when you can have what you want.”

“Because it’s not what I want Cara!” Kahlan took a step forward as Cara’s eyes flashed back to her. “I don’t know how many times I have to say this, but I do not want to be with Richard.” 

“Then why are you so consumed by this,” Cara gestured at the book. Her voice was thick with irritation but her sea green eyes betrayed her emotions.

“Because I want,” Kahlan’s hands curled at her sides. She struggled to reel herself back in. “I want...”

“What do you want Kahlan?” Her voice was small.

Kahlan’s heart cracked. She put her face into her hands and pushed at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “I just want to be with the person I love without destroying them,” she whispered. “Is that so bad?”

The silence lingered on.

“Of course not Kahlan,” Cara finally whispered back.

Kahlan nodded, but didn’t raise her head. Not trusting herself to look at Cara right then.

“I am sure there is a way,” Cara breathed out, and Kahlan had to hold in a whimper.

She steadied herself, pushed her hair off her face and forced herself to look up. “I’m sorry.” She said. “I’m being ridiculous. I shouldn’t even worry about the future until there is one. For now, all I want to do is kill Rahl.”

Cara tilted her head and grinned. “Well lucky for you, I am very good at killing people.” 

Somehow, Kahlan found herself smiling back.

It was Cara who cleared her throat and broke eye contact. “I must get out there. There is still some blood if you wish to add anything else.” She looked at the journal, then back to Kahlan, hesitated, nodded confidently, then exited the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the jibber jabber about the bond is stolen from the books, since the show did not speak about it much. 
> 
> I'd like to thank you all for your continued support. Kudos and Comments are my fuel source, and the reception this has gotten is humbling.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just cross 100000 words? 😮 Thank you all for your support! I did not see that coming when I started this out.

Kahlan sat on a log and stretched her legs as she took in the sparring Mord-Sith. Nyda, Galina and Vale were taking turns coming at Cara, one or two at a time, and she would fight them back with her duel Agiels. 

Her sharp, circular movements were mesmerizing.

Countless times she had fought along side Cara and even _against_ her on one occasion. Though, she supposed, the lack of air and desire to not actually kill each other hardly made it a typical fight. Regardless, she was well aware of how skilled a fighter the blonde was. But she had never really had the time to just sit and appreciate it.

Mord-Sith as a whole were fierce warriors. They spent as much time training in combat as they did learning to control pain. There was no holding back in their sparring. So, watching Cara expertly handling three of them was an impressive testament to her skills. It was no wonder it had taken an entire temple of Mord-Sith to take her down.

Cara fended off Nyda’s advance, as Vale circled around behind to charge at her. She quickly ducked and spun, flipping Vale over her shoulder and into Nyda, just as Galina came in from the flank. Cara caught the inbound Agiel with a cross of her own, then twisted quickly and in a blink was behind Galina holding a weapon to her throat. 

Cara shot her a cocky grin from across the clearing and Kahlan’s mouth might have gone a little dry. That is when Rikka ambled up, flipping an Agiel in each hand and a smug grin of her own. Cara rolled her eyes at Kahlan, then straightened and tilted her head to signal Rikka to advance.

Though obviously not as comfortable with two Agiels as Cara, Rikka was strong and moved quickly. It didn’t take long to realize why these two had become training rivals. The ease of their movements came from instinct as much as skill. A natural talent that no amount of training could make up for.

Kahlan felt a presence move in beside her and turned to find Berdine had joined her on the log. Holding two steaming cups, she held one out for the Confessor with a smirk playing on her face, “enjoying the show Mother Confessor?”

“Good morning Berdine.” Kahlan ignored the knowing undertone, took the offered beverage, and turned her attention back to the fight in time to see Cara side step Rikka’s attack and let her Agiel slide across the woman’s back with a satisfied grin. “Thank you, did you sleep well?” 

“As well as can be hoped.”

Kahlan hummed her agreement. The moon had gone full that morning and would stay so through the night. There was nothing saying the spell had to be performed in the dark, and the hint of nervous energy was palpable around camp. That was why most of the Mord-Sith not currently out scouting were either watching or participating in Cara’s impromptu sparring session. A handful of the soldiers, who had just returned from a supply run, looked on as well. It was proving a good distraction. 

Of course, Berdine had extra reason to feel uneasy. She was hiding it well, but she had to feel it. Kahlan wished she could offer the Mord-Sith some comfort, but there was nothing she could say. And though Berdine did not carry herself as rigidly as most Mord-Sith, she doubted the brunette would enjoy having her fears recognized aloud.

Kahlan sipped her tea and they watched as Rikka came at Cara in a ferocious wave. Occasionally Nyda or Vale would move in on one of them, with a quick attack to challenge their focus. Cara never failed to see it coming, nor did she fail to keep Rikka’s strikes at bay.

“Cara has always been one of the most accomplished Mord-Sith in the art of combat. Its nice to see all the time away from her Sisters hasn’t made her soft.”

Kahlan smiled fondly, “We kept her on her toes.”

“I bet you did.”

Kahlan sipped her tea, pleased with herself for not reacting to Berdine’s seditious tone.

“You know,” the Mord-Sith continued, “if you wish to bed her, you need only command it.”

Tea sprayed from the Confessors mouth as she choked. “What?” she croaked out, wiping at her chin.

“Mistress Cara, my lady.” Berdine was speaking all too formally now. “You are very attractive; it would hardly be a chore for her.” She waved her hand across the encampment. “Most of the Sisters here would gladly come to your bed. Just make your will known, and she will obey.”

“I would kill her, _them_ ,” Kahlan sputtered. “I would never… it is _not_ my will.”

“Of course not, Mother Confessor.” Berdine took a long sip of tea, her eyes never leaving the fight. “Although if you are afraid you would confess her, you are seriously underestimating the creativity of a Mord-Sith.”

Kahlan was sure her already heated features just invented a new shade of red. “Creator,” she muttered under her breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She could see Berdine smiling out of the corner of her eye. Well, maybe she was doing something to help the woman after all.

“We should take a couple marks to practice your High D’haran again today,” Berdine continued as if the previous conversation hadn’t happened. “You are doing well, which just means you have more to forget if you don’t keep at it.” 

Across the clearing, Rikka had managed to swipe Cara’s legs out, but she rolled back onto her feet before Rikka could deliver a blow. Being taken down only seemed to make Cara stronger. Lightening fast, she surged forward, landing a series of strikes, and putting Rikka on her back. Cara wagged an Agiel over the taller blonde’s face in victory.

She helped Rikka to her feet, then her eyes sought out Kahlan, again accompanied by a cocky grin. Kahlan smiled back. 

“That was very impressive Mistress Cara.” Captain Meiffert emerged from the group of soldiers, drawing the blonde’s attention. He pulled his sword a couple inches from its scabbard and let it drop back in. “Would you mind if I try my luck?”

Cara laughed. “Luck is exactly what it would be if you are to do anything but embarrass yourself in front of your men, Captain.”

Kahlan didn’t remember getting to her feet, but here she was, handing her mug to Berdine. “We will in a bit.”

“Of course,” she smirked knowingly. “If you don’t use it you lose it, after all.”

Kahlan shot her a look then quickly made her way across the clearing. “Excuse me Captain.” She spoke to the soldier but tossed a challenging look at Cara as she approached. “But if you don’t mind, I would like a shot at Mistress Cara before she gets too tired. I would not want her to blame her defeat at my hand on fatigue.”

“I do not get tired,” Cara spat. 

“Be my guest, Mother Confessor,” Captain Meiffert smiled. “Perhaps it will improve my odds if I let you wear her down some more.”

“Not likely,” Cara muttered as the Captain moved off. But her eyes were smiling at Kahlan. She tilted her head and quirked an eyebrow, “You sure you want to do this in front of witnesses?”

“Why wouldn’t I want your Sisters to see my blade at your throat?” Kahlan taunted back. “It’s such a good look on you.”

Cara’s face went flat. “There was a deer,” she enunciated slowly.

“Of course there was.”

“You do remember the time we _actually_ fought, don’t you? How easily I put you down?”

“Hmmm,” Kahlan shook her head. “You must have been delirious from the lack of air, because that is not how I remember things.” 

Cara’s eyes narrowed and Kahlan held back a laugh. She pulled her daggers from her boots and spun them in her hands. “So?”

The blonde nodded her agreement and turned to her Sisters standing near by. “No interference.”

“Never,” Galina grinned and turned to Nyda. “Ten silver on Lady Amnell.”

Cara scowled again as the Mord-Sith moved back. Sisters all around the camp now placing their bets.

Kahlan smiled as she got into position. “I thought Mord-Sith had no use for money?”

“Of course they do,” Cara grinned. “For betting.” Her grin turned wicked. “Although not all those bets will be for coin.”

Kahlan flushed and pursed her lips. “You ready?”

“Are you?”

The Confessor spun her blades again in answer.

Cara was on her like a red blur. Agiels spun and slashed like a windmill. Kahlan met and deflected each blow, only taking a few steps back before digging in and holding her ground. She blocked an Agiel directed at her ribs, twisted Cara’s arm under her own, and knocked her off balance. Then it was Kahlan advancing. She swung her blades, high and low, crisscrossing as Cara ducked and weaved and blocked, smiling widely the entire time. 

The Mord-Sith leaned far to her right side to dodge an attack, and Kahlan took the opening to throw a kick into Cara’s side. Unfortunately, Cara had been anticipating the move and used Kahlan’s momentum to turn her around and hold her from behind, arm bracing across her chest, just below her throat.

“Well, this is cozy,” Cara’s breath tickled her ear. 

Kahlan twisted her head back to catch green eyes and grinned, before hammering an elbow into Cara’s stomach and flipping her onto her back. But before the brunette could congratulate herself on using Cara’s own move against her, the Mord-Sith pushed hard off her feet, jutting back to catch Kahlan’s ankle and pulling sharply. Kahlan hit the ground with a thud and one of her daggers skidded away.

They both scrambled quickly to their feet, circling around each other as they caught their breath. Cara raised a poignant eyebrow at Kahlan’s lone dagger and sheathed one of her Agiels. Then she was coming at her again. 

It went back and forth for quite a while and she was working up a bit of a sweat. Cara was stronger, but Kahlan was no slouch and her added height was an advantage in itself. She could keep Cara at a distance and prevent her from utilizing her full strength. Eventually the blonde got frustrated with being kept to the outside and only partially blocked an attack from Kahlan’s blade, in order to counter more quickly and take advantage of an opening. 

The flat of Kahlan’s knife bounced off Cara’s arm. It would have been an injury, but far from fatal. Then Cara darted inwards, showing great control as she drew the lightest of touches of her Agiel across Kahlan’s midsection, then again on her ass (much to the amusement of the onlooking Mord-Sith), as she passed by.

Kahlan gave a half-hearted glare in return of the all too pleased-with-herself smirk Cara was wearing. She wanted to be mad, but seeing Cara enjoy herself made that impossible. Instead, she advanced on her quickly again, wiping the grin off her face as she backed her across the clearing and sent her stumbling over a large root sticking up from the ground. Cara’s body contorted as she put both her hands down and caught herself. But before she could fully recover, Kahlan levelled a swift kick to her remaining Agiel, sending it spinning off and coming to rest a few yards away at the feet of the on-looking Vale. 

Now it was Kahlan’s turn to smirk. She flicked her dagger in the direction of Cara’s fallen weapon, where it stuck in the dirt right next to it. The Mord-Sith’s scowl followed the path back from her Agiel. Kahlan brought up her hands, ready to continued now that they were both unarmed.

Or so she thought. Cara grinned wickedly as she rose and reached around her back, pulling the dagger Kahlan had insisted she carry. 

Kahlan rolled her eyes, but signaled for Cara to advance. She ducked Cara’s first swing, then side stepped the next, spinning quickly to throw an elbow into Cara’s side as she followed through. Cara then tried to level a punch with her unarmed hand, following quickly to bring the dagger up with the other. But Kahlan blocked the first arm with her left, then grabbed and twisted it down with her right to stop the advancing blade.

She used the momentum to pull herself in tight, and in a blink had her hand around Cara’s neck. Everything stopped. Breathing hard, Cara spread her hands in defeat. The ring of people around them broke into a blend of cheers and cussing, as bets began to settle. But Kahlan hardly noticed. 

The first time Kahlan had her fingers around Cara’s throat, it was met with a mixture of challenging spite and unease. The second time, remorse and shame. This time Cara’s eyes reflected an intense satisfaction. Her lip curled into the barest semblance of a smile. After a few beats of staring, Cara raised an elegant brow. 

“Command me, Mistress,” she offered quietly.

A shock went down her spine and Kahlan felt her fingers twitch against Cara’s pulse. She had to remind herself to breathe. And pull her hand back! She pulled it back like it was on fire, opening and closing it at her side as she lamely looked around for her fallen weapons. “Good fight.”

“Indeed,” Cara agreed, rubbing her hand across her neck. She put her knife in her belt, then moved to retrieve her Agiel laying next to Kahlan’s dagger stuck in the ground. After returning her weapon to its holster, she spun Kahlan’s dagger around to offer the handle to the Confessor. 

As she took it, their eyes locked again, and Kahlan tried hard to pretend she didn’t hear the “ _that was hot_ ” one of the Mord-Sith muttered from somewhere behind her. Instead taking her weapon and immediately returning her eyes to the ground to search for its partner. 

\-----------

It was fitting how clear it was. Not a cloud to be had on this late summer night, the bright moon hanging directly over camp. Hanging over all their heads. It was several marks past dusk now but nobody was asleep. Kahlan and most of the Mord-Sith sat around a large fire in the middle of camp. Occasionally someone would rise to add a log to the fire, or carve off a chunk of meat from the large boar Cara and Galina had brought down that afternoon. But conversation was sparse. Uneasy about what might happen in the next few hours. What it could mean for their mission. But mostly what it could mean for their Sister Mord-Sith who were not bonded to Kahlan.

Kahlan glanced across the encampment where the soldiers were gathered around their own fire. Awaiting their own fate. Captain Meiffert insisted no matter what, he wished to continue to be of help, but coming all the way to the Pillars to face Rahl may be off the table if he regains the bond. Should Darken Rahl be aware of their presence he could manipulate them, turn friends into enemies.

Not that they would be given a chance to. Kahlan got the distinct feeling that the Mord-Sith would not allow the soldiers to continue with them if Rahl took back the bond this night. And it would be a very messy end should they try. Despite being “in charge,” when it came to matters of her personal safety, the leathered warriors seemed to be of a mind of their own, including refusing to leave her alone with less than three guards when she goes to the stream to bathe. So, if privacy to wash is off the table, she can’t imagine the idea of travelling with a bunch of compromised soldiers would be a well received idea.

Kahlan held in a sigh as she watched Berdine across the fire, staring into the flames. She had not felt any more Mord-Sith bonding to her since the day of the Gar attack. She was worried about Hally. Cara had warned her Hally would have difficulty doing as she promised in such a short time. But for some reason the idea of her failing seemed impossible to Kahlan. If the woman had to ride her horse day and night to keep her promise she would. 

Perhaps Hally _had_ rode day and night, reached the Temple in record time and got as far as bonding two of her Sisters before they turned on her. Perhaps something befell her and Solvig on the road. Mord-Sith weren’t exactly welcomed with open arms in most parts of the world.

Cara suddenly dropped down on her right to sit beside her, instantly shaking Kahlan from her dark thoughts. She was going to ask the blonde where she had been, but the light scent of oil could only mean the Mord-Sith had been tending to her leathers. It didn’t escape Kahlan that the aroma brought with it a sense of calm. Or maybe that was just Cara herself. 

“What?” Cara frowned at her, and Kahlan realized she was sporting a soft smile. 

“Nothing,” Kahlan shook her head. “I just have the feeling its going to be okay.”

“It is.” Cara smirked roguishly and raised her hands. She was holding two large bottles of a dark amber liquid.

“Oh, that’s more like it,” Galina exclaimed from the other side of the fire.

Cara used her dagger to pop the cork out of the first bottle. She leaned over to hand it to Vale, who was sitting on her right, and the bottle started making its way around the fire. 

“Anderithean Rye,” Cara explained as she struggled to ween out the second cork. “They may be a bunch of bastards, but they make a good drink.”

“Cheers to that!” Galina raised the bottle in salute as it reached her and took a large swig.

“Where the Keeper did you get that?” Kahlan asked.

“Benjamin,” Cara grunted then grinned as the cork came free. “He said not to ask how he got it.”

“Who?” Kahlan watched Cara’s throat bob as she took a long drink, then offered her the bottle. Kahlan shook her head softly, and Cara passed it across her lap to Nyda.

“Captain Meiffert. This stuff is rare and expensive in D’hara. I can’t imagine how he got his hands on it.”

Kahlan barely heard past Captain Meiffert, as the now familiar wave of envy washed through her. Not just because of any affections Cara might carry for the man. But for the simple fact that _Benjamin_ could openly pursue Cara. Had the luxury of encouraging her feelings with simple acts and flirtations. Not that Kahlan would even begin to know how to flirt. “I didn’t know his name was Benjamin,” she said softly looking into the flickering of the fire. “That was very kind of him.”

Cara was quiet a moment, then sounded almost irritated. “I am sure you must have heard it in passing.”

On Kahlan’s left the first bottle of rye had made its way back around to Nyda. She was holding it out for her expectantly. “Drink with us Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan smiled at the title. Not that she really needed to be called by it, but other than Berdine, and she supposed Hania, who was definitely not using the moniker out of respect, the Mord-Sith had generally preferred to call her Lady Amnell. Like they were trying to ignore the fact they all bonded themselves to a Confessor. She couldn’t deny the warmth in her chest hearing it now. “I don’t really drink Nyda, but thank you.”

“Don’t drink?” Galina asked as if Kahlan had just said she did not breathe air. “Why the Keeper not?”

“Confessors are not supposed to consume anything that might lower our inhibitions.” She held up her hands to make her point.

Galina’s face went sour. “And they say _we_ are tortured.”

Kahlan couldn’t help laugh at that. Vale peeked her head past Cara. “We are all leathered up. You do not have to worry about confessing us.”

“Except maybe Cara.” Rikka appeared across the fire, strategically sitting down where the other bottle was passing by. “Maybe you better move.” She shot a smirk at her rival as some of the other Mord-Sith chuckled, then took a couple swigs of dark liquid. 

Cara just rolled her eyes. Kahlan smirked and bumped Cara’s shoulder with her own. “Don’t worry Cara, you can have a rematch,” she said quietly, feeling a little victorious when Cara turned a scowl on her. “You know Rikka,” she said more loudly across the fire. “If you would like to learn how to take down Mistress Cara, I would be happy to give you some pointers.”

That invoked another round of laughter from the circle of Mord-Sith. Rikka looked equal parts insulted and intrigued. “You would spar with me?”

“I would consider it a great opportunity to sharpen my skills to spar with any of you.”

Galina snatched the bottle out of Rikka’s hand with a smirk. “I got next.”

Kahlan laughed a little as Nyda beside her again pushed the bottle in her direction. “It is bad luck to turn down a drink with your warriors.”

Kahlan looked at her skeptically. 

“Can you afford to risk it?” The Mord-Sith added with a sly grin.

Kahlan shook her head, but took the bottle. “One drink.” 

There were a lot of self-satisfied smirks as she glanced around the fire. Her eyes landed on Berdine, who Galina had just passed the other bottle too. Berdine tossed her a small smile as she raised her drink. 

Kahlan wanted to say something. She knew Berdine was not the only one here worried about somebody. She was only just coming to understand how deep the phrase “Sister of the Agiel” truly ran. These women grew up together, had bled together, and been broken together. They were a family born from pain, but a family none the less.

But she knew none of them would appreciate having it laid out like that, nor did she wish to be drowned out by a chorus of ‘feelings make you weak.’

“No matter what happens tonight,” Kahlan said, finally raising her bottle, “Rahl’s days are numbered.” Berdine lifted her rye a little higher in agreement before taking a sip. Kahlan put the bottle to her mouth and took a proper drink, not wanting to be accused of cheating. As she swallowed, the liquid burned a path down her throat, and warmth spread into her chest and belly. She coughed causing several of the Mord-Sith to burst out laughing. “Smooth,” she choked out as she handed the bottle off to Cara. 

The sound of the Mord-Sith laughing was immediately drown out by the look Cara was giving her. Intense but soft all at once. Like Kahlan had just done something important. It wasn’t the first time Cara had looked at her like that recently, and Kahlan could feel herself warm again. This time it wasn’t from the alcohol. 

She was glad the flush from the drink could hide the blush she knew was pulling across her cheeks. Cara took a sip then leaned again to her side to pass the bottle off to Vale. When she settled back down, she had shuffled a couple inches closer. Kahlan couldn’t help wonder if it had been on purpose.

She pushed her ridiculous thoughts aside and turned to Nyda to distract herself from the tingling Cara’s closeness was causing, asking a question she had been wondering for a while. “How many more Mord-Sith are there?”

“It’s hard to say,” she replied. “At one time there were well over a hundred of us. But in his desperation, over the past few years Rahl has used the Mord-Sith more as a general fighting force than the specialized weapon that we are. And it has had a cost.” Nyda picked up a small stick from the ground and tossed it at the fire. “And then there was Triana’s misguided attempted to take over for the Lord Rahl that got an entire Temple slaughtered.” 

It hung in the air by who’s hand they had fallen.

Kahlan gently laid a hand on Nyda’s forearm, relieved the woman didn’t tense under it. She decided to take this opportunity to clear the air once and for all. “We have all suffered great loss at the other’s hand.” She glanced around the fire to make sure she had everyone’s attention. “I am not so naïve as to think none of you were at Valeria.” Her eyes fell on Cara with a sad smile. “Just as I know none of you are so naïve as to believe none of your Sisters have fallen to my blade. We were born on different sides of a war. Literally raised to hate each other. But that is over. I have seen nothing but reasons to offer you my trust and respect.” She took the bottle that had made its way around to Cara and placed it in Nyda’s hands. 

“Perhaps the forces that worked so hard to keep us at odds, did so because they feared what we could accomplish together.” Nyda offered her a genuine smile before taking a drink and passing the bottle along. Kahlan smiled back, no longer surprised by the deep contemplation this often-quiet Mord-Sith had to offer.

“Not long ago there were six active Temples scattered around the fringes of D’haran territory,” she continued. “With between ten to twenty Sisters stationed at each at any given time. Our numbers have dwindled to where the two Eastern Temples were abandoned to reinforce the barracks closer to the Midlands. I am not sure when the last time an accurate census has been taken. But my best guess would be there are only eighty to ninety of us left, depending on what has happened to our Sisters who went with Rahl.”

Kahlan glanced up at the moon and then at the fire. Perhaps if they got through this night without the worst coming to pass, she should send emissaries to the other temples to offer the remaining Mord-Sith her protection. In all likelihood they were already feeling the connection between them, wherever they were stationed, they just had to be given the opportunity to choose it. But that was for the morning. She didn’t want to be playing ‘what-if’ with the bond hanging in the balance. 

“And then of course there are the trainees,” Nyda added quietly.

Kahlan felt the blood drain from her face. Somehow, she hadn’t thought about that. “How many?” she barely whispered.

Nyda’s eyes trailed across to Berdine as if she might know better. Kahlan looked at her expectantly.

“Again, with Rahl’s shifting priorities, recruiting,” Berdine grimaced, “has suffered…”

“How many Berdine?”

She let out a long breath. “I don’t know. A couple years ago Lord Rahl moved the training out of the capital to one of the abandoned Temples in the east. He did not wish the new trainees to witness the upheaval from the war, and take that for weakness of his power.” Berdine took an extra long swig of rye as a now near empty bottle passed her by. “Only about six girls are chosen each year,” she was speaking very quietly now, “but many do not survive their first breaking. Many more do not survive the training.” 

The word “ _first_ ” stuck out at Kahlan like a red flag. How many breakings did they have? She probably didn’t want to know.

Berdine let out another noisy breath. “Maybe a dozen or so at various stages. But that is really just a guess.”

Kahlan wasn’t sure she wanted to know what ‘various stages’ meant either. She fell silent and chewed her lip as she thought what to do. Everything in her wanted to run off and save these children from their dark fate, but doing so would mean Rahl would win, and even more children would suffer. If she ordered some of the Mord-Sith to go and deal with it, would they listen? And even if they did, Rahl had a significant force gathered at the Pillars of Creation waiting for them. If Kahlan divided her manpower it would hurt their chances of success. This would have to wait until after.

Nothing’s ever easy.

“Are we to be the last, Mother Confessor?” The quiet, unsure voice seemed almost foreign coming out of Galina. She looked at her a long time, then around at the other Mord-Sith. These were all proud women, proud of who they are, despite how they got there. She had travelled with Cara long enough to know she would not trade her Agiels for anything. 

Her eyes found Galina again. “I cannot condone kidnapping and torturing children. And I think you all know better than anyone why not.” Her eyes flickered sideways to Cara. “But perhaps there is another way.” She raised an eyebrow at Galina. “You can be in charge of figuring it out after we send Rahl back to the Keeper.”

Galina stretched over two Sisters to snatch up one of the circulating bottles. “I’ll drink to that!”

“Creator we are doomed,” Rikka joked.

Galina quickly reached back and jammed her Agiel into Rikka’s ribcage.

“That’s it.” Rikka tried to stand up, but stumbled back down on her ass, apparently the alcohol was kicking in full force. “Shit.”

Berdine grabbed the rye from Galina and slapped it into Rikka’s lap. “Maybe three Agiels will help.”

A round of laughter and Kahlan let the conversation be steered away to less difficult topics, and the atmosphere settled. Sated by the drink, some of the Mord-Sith slowly began to make their way to their tents. Anderithean alcohol was notoriously strong, and even the one shot was having an effect on Kahlan. She could feel herself slowly being lulled by the flames. 

“You should go to bed Kahlan,” she heard Cara murmur softly in her ear.

Kahlan sighed and rose to her feet. “Good night ladies,” she said nodding to the remaining Mord-Sith, stopping for a moment on Berdine, then started towards her tent. She didn’t have to look back to know Cara had followed, nor was she surprised to find two sober Mord-Sith already guarding her tent.

She was, however, surprised to hear a stumble and a shuffle from behind her as she reached the flap. Kahlan turned around with a grin. “You’re drunk.”

“I am not, there was a root.”

“Hmm, those do seem to be a problem for you today, don’t they?”

The blonde scowled a moment, then it softened as she glanced behind her.

“I know,” Kahlan said before Cara could. “You are going to stay up with Berdine. I would expect nothing else.”

Cara frowned and swayed a bit, causing Kahlan to laugh. 

“I’m sorry to break it to you Cara. You can grumble and gruff about duty all you want but you are above all things a good and loyal friend.” The blonde opened her mouth to protest, but Kahlan stilled her with a hand on her ribs. “And that is why you will stay up until dawn with Berdine, and that is why you let me win today, so I could look good in front of all your Sisters.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not. You left me an opening the size of Aydindril by accident.”

“Maybe I was having an off day,” Cara challenged back, pushing into Kahlan’s hand.

“Well,” Kahlan said, smiling broadly now. “Sometime when you are _not_ having an off day, and there are no wild game in sight, I want a proper rematch.”

“So, you admit there was a deer!” Cara smiled back with a slightly crooked grin. 

Kahlan’s fingers unwittingly curled into Cara’s side. She was exceedingly adorable when she was off kilter like this. She wondered how many times she would get Agieled if she spoke such a thought out loud. “I might have seen a squirrel.”

Green eyes narrowed, then again looked back towards the camp fire. When they returned to her, they looked almost regretful. “I should go.”

“I know.”

A wide roguish grin returned to the blonde, as she lowered her voice, “I may have stashed another bottle of the Anderithean booze in that shrub over there.” 

Smiling, Kahlan looked to the bush and shook her head. “Of course you did. I guess our rematch won’t be tomorrow.” She expected some sort of snappy comeback, but all she got was silence. When she returned her gaze to the Mord-Sith, she was quietly staring at Kahlan, brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Kahlan swallowed and fought the urge to pull Cara back into the tent with her. She was dangerously close to doing something stupid. “You should go,” she whispered, fingers of the hand she was yet to remove tightening on Cara’s ribs again. 

Cara nodded as her hand came to rest on Kahlan’s elbow. Kahlan closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then quickly leaned forward landing a kiss on the blonde’s cheek. “Goodnight Cara,” she said softly and quickly disappeared behind the flap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Writing combat smoothly is hard. Lets mostly skip around it in the future 😂  
> 2\. The moon actually appears full for several days, but is only truly full for an instant. But I didn't want to write three days of waiting for the spell, so its "full enough" for one.  
> 3\. Benjamin bringing the booze is a slight rip off from Faith of the Fallen when he procures some something for Cara, but with less Kahlan-jealousy so my way is more fun.  
> 4\. In the books Mord-Sith seem to be far more rare and specialized. On the show they seemed in endless supply, probably because they made such good bad guys. I much preferred the book way though because it made them more unique. So I tried to reconcile the difference and meet in the middle.  
> 5\. Did I say thank you? THANK YOU!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did another Chapter! It kind of flew out of me and I am not letting it marinate at all before posting, so hopefully I don't regret anything later, lol.
> 
> Thank you again for your endless support! Apparently we have entered short novel territory!

“So. How much longer do we have to wait for this Seeker of yours? He does know what’s on the line here doesn’t he?”

Cara grunted and shoved some sticks and leaves aside with the end of her bow. The deer definitely went this way. “I am sure he will arrive soon,” she muttered, and started again through the brush. Galina had a point. This wasn’t the first time Richard’s dawdling with his insistence to save every injured bird and stray cat he passes on the road had become a problem. But she knew from experience complaining about it wouldn’t get him here any faster. And her piling on was only going to make what will likely be an already awkward situation more difficult, when the abdicated Lord Rahl comes face to face with the Mord-Sith he refused to lead.

But it had been three days since the moon, and more than a week since Richard left the Palace of the Profits. Her Sisters were getting tired of sitting in one place. Mord-Sith did not idle. Not when there was a mission to complete. Duty was the Mord-Sith’s religion and wasting time was pure sacrilege.

“How did you guys ever stop the Keeper moving like this?” Hannah asked. “The Palace of the Profits is not that far. We could have ridden there and back twice by now.”

“You are going to scare this deer all the way to the Palace if you two don’t quiet down,” Cara snapped in a hushed tone. She didn’t want to have to find and track another. They were already having to move further and further from camp to find large game. Another indication they had been in one place too long. She straightened and turned to her Sisters. It was hard to be mad at them for something she had been internally raging about herself. “Look. I get it. But Richard and the men with him will add four swords to our cause, and will bring information that could aide us.”

Both women looked at her skeptically. Cara sighed. “If he isn’t here in a couple days, I will talk to Kahlan about moving on.”

Galina smiled and nudged Hannah as she spoke. “I’m sure you know exactly how to _convince_ _Kahlan.”_

Cara rolled her eyes and resumed tracking the buck. Fact was she didn’t think the Confessor would need much convincing. She practically chucked the journey book through the wall of the tent the previous night, when Zedd had written that Richard would still be a couple more days. She half expected Kahlan to pack up camp and move out at first light just to spite him. 

But though she was doubtful Richard was actually bringing any useful information back from his stint with the Sisters of the Light, he _was_ bringing more manpower. The Brennidon men were no D’haran troops, but they were bodies, and Richard’s work with the Sword of Truth had come a long way since she’d met him. Even if Rahl continued to send messengers as frequently as he had, that would still leave fifty to seventy well trained Dragon Corp to deal with by the time they reached the Pillars. Not to mention the unknown variable that was her Sisters. Both how many there were, and who’s side they would ultimately fight on. And it still bothered her that Gregor had only reported seeing five. Rahl should have had at least a dozen more with him. 

Whatever the situation, they were heading into a fight with Darken Rahl, best case scenario down two bodies to one. With her Sisters and Kahlan making up the bulk of their numbers, Cara liked their chances, but she would not turn down a couple more swords if they had the time to wait for them. Although it felt like significantly less time every day. She was going to accidentally kick Richard in the shin when he got back. She ignored the twisting feeling in her stomach at the thought of his return. 

She stopped and turned to Hannah. “Which way?”

Hannah carefully stepped around Cara to inspect the ground and bushes, the braid of her unusual for a Mord-Sith light brown hair falling forward over her shoulder as she leaned down. “These leaves here look like they have been stepped on, and that branch there is snapped, so I would say it veered left down that way,” she pointed through the trees, down a small hill. 

“Good.” Cara nodded for her to lead the way. “It’s all yours.”

“These deer could teach men a thing or two on how to cover their tracks,” Galina joked as she ducked through some branches to follow.

“They could also teach you a thing or two about being quiet,” Hannah hissed back, then moved ahead without waiting.

Cara smirked at Galina. “You better watch out. You’ll be sleeping by the fire tonight if you chase away her kill.”

“She would never punish herself like that,” Galina boasted.

“Well, I am sure Mistress Amber would jump to salve her wounds.” Cara laughed as Galina’s face morphed into a scowl. “Wait.” She glanced up the trail to where Hannah had disappeared. “Really?”

“ _What_?” Galina bit back defensively, throwing a hand in the air. “It seems to work well for you and Berdine. I am trying a thing here.”

Suddenly it was Cara scowling. “ _What_ works for me?”

Galina rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot Cara. 

Cara just stared at her blankly. 

Galina hooked an eyebrow. “Are _you_ an idiot?”

“There is nothing going on,” Cara brisked.

“Are you sure?”

“Your wife is going to get lost if we don’t get going.” Cara pushed off down the trail, ending the inquisition. The truth was she had no idea what was going on with Kahlan these days and Cara was far from equipped to figure it out.

One minute she is worrying over Richard’s love, the next lamenting the struggles of some future imaginary mate. Then there was Kahlan’s odd stiffness around Benjamin. Almost like jealousy, but that didn’t make any sense. She was certain Kahlan was not interested in the Captain. 

The Confessor was all open and touchy and overly affectionate with everyone she liked. Heck she practically mauled Cara on her way to bed the other night. Though Cara had to admit, in her inebriated state, she allowed herself to indulge in the moment and hadn’t even tried to fend the Confessor off. But the point was, if Kahlan cared for somebody the way she had Richard, surely even Cara’s limited ability to understand emotions would perceive it. Watching Kahlan _care_ was about as subtle as having a dragon land on your face.

But the thing was, Cara was not an idiot, and there were moments when Kahlan looked at her, or touched her, she could almost believe... If there was one _emotion_ Cara was familiar with it was desire. And she was certain she had seen desire, and… something else, reflected at her through Kahlan’s eyes.

But that was wrong too. Wishful thinking. And such daydreams were beneath a Mord-Sith. Kahlan was aware of Cara’s weakness. And Cara had outright _asked_ Kahlan what she wanted. She was literally Kahlan’s for the taking, yet she did not take. 

The only thing that Cara could come up with was that the Confessor was lonely. 

A Confessor’s life was lonely by default, but with Richard, Kahlan had found a closeness long denied to those born of her abilities. She probably missed it. And was obviously worried she could never have it again. Though Cara thought she worried far too much about the confession problem. Anyone who let that get in the way certainly _was_ an idiot. 

Maybe Richard coming back would help. He was far more suited to negotiate her emotions and such. He had done it before, after all. All Cara knew how to do was sit there.

Cara’s insides clenched again. She quickly banished the feeling and knelt down beside Hannah, who was focused like a hawk through the trees. She slowly raised her hand and gestured to a large bush. A splash of brown moved behind it. Cara nodded at her and pointed for Hannah to move down wind to find a better shot, then knocked an arrow herself, and waited. If Hannah missed and spooked it, she would still have a chance to bring the buck down. 

Her Sister moved silently around the trees, looking for a better angle on her prey. Hannah finally stopped and drew back her bow, let out a long breath, then in an instant the focus changed. The deer bolted off into the woods as the distinct beating of hooves was coming at them from behind. Hannah and Cara turned their bows at the incoming sound, and Galina drew her Agiel as two horses moved into sight. 

“Did you just lose dinner?”

“ _Hally_?”

The smiling blonde dropped off her horse and approached Cara. “Were you expecting the Prelate?”

Cara shook her head as they clasped arms at the elbow. “I certainly wasn’t expecting you.” She glanced up at the other horse and its dismounting dark-haired rider. “How the Keeper are you here”

“I am just that good.” Hally’s grin trailed back to her riding companion, who also approached Cara with an outstretched hand. 

Cara couldn’t help herself, she was smiling as she clasped Raina’s arm. “You are a sight for sore eyes.”

“Thanks to Hally, my eyes are the only thing on me that _aren’t_ sore.” Raina smiled back, glancing at the young blonde with a feigned-frown. “She rode me harder than I have my whole life.”

“Don’t let Berdine hear you say that.” Galina pushed in, in greeting. “Then you will have to spend your night watching her get her ass kicked by Hally, instead of welcoming you back.”

Cara watched Raina’s open smile pull back a bit behind the standard Mord-Sith mask. What Raina and Berdine were to each other was not a secret amongst the Mord-Sith, but it was taboo. As if speaking of it openly would further attract the attentions of the Lord Rahl. It was certainly never joked about. 

Raina had yet to spend a moment in Kahlan’s presence, and after a lifetime of Rahl, Cara could hardly blame her for not jumping in feet first to trust this new reality. She silently greeted Hannah with a nod. Then Hally and Raina retrieved the reins of their mounts and they collectively began moving back towards camp, the hunt for a fresh dinner forgotten.

“So,” Cara rolled her head at the still grinning Hally. “You want to tell me what Keepers-magic allowed you to pulled this off in barely a fortnight? And where is Solvig?”

Hally made a little face at that, then pushed her braid over her shoulder. “We rode hard for a little over a week,” she gestured at Raina, “and so did they.”

“We felt a change,” Raina continued in her soft timbre. “I guess it was from your Confessor.” Cara frowned at the insinuation the Confessor was hers, but didn’t interrupt. “But we didn’t know that at the time. Only that we felt a strong pull and it was new and different. We thought perhaps maybe a new Lord Rahl had taken control, so we made the decision to send a quad to find out.”

Of course Raina had volunteered for that. It was probably her idea.

“We met them on the road, on their way to the People’s Palace,” Hally finished.

“But if there were four of you?” Cara let the question hang.

Raina shared a look with Hally, silently deciding who would explain. Hally took the lead. “Since Raina was suddenly there, I was not going to risk waiting until the Temple before offering her the bond. I knew Berdine would skin me alive if I messed this up, and was probably having a stroke each mark waiting for word.”

Cara smirked. “She was. She hid it well, but she was. I still don’t know how you convinced her to let you go in her place.”

“Neither do I.” Hally shook her head. “Anyway, I explained to our Sisters what had happened.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “I barely got the words _Berdine sent me_ out of my mouth and Raina was bonding herself to the Mother Confessor. Mistress Holly followed. But when Mistress Denise went to give her vow, that’s when it happened.”

“What happened?”

“Constance,” Raina growled, and Cara’s skin went cold. “She went crazy. She put her Agiel to Denise’s chest and dropped her dead, screaming that she was doing her a favour by not letting her taint herself.” Raina bit her lip. “I am embarrassed to say we were frozen in shock. But before she could move on anyone else, Solvig jumped in and fought her off. Then she tore off into the woods.”

“Is Solvig…”

“Okay, yes,” Hally assured. “But she was injured. She continued on foot to the Temple, and insisted we take the horses and get back here. Holly was in a rage and went after Constance.” Hally shook her head angrily, “I hope she finds her.”

Cara took this in quietly for a few moments. There was a lot to digest, but at least that solved the mystery of who bonded to Kahlan that day on the road, and why only two. Injured and on foot, it would take Solvig a while to reach the Temple. That still left one big question though. Cara looked from Hally to Raina. “How did you make it a week’s ride north of the People’s palace to here in eight days?”

Raina rolled her eyes and gestured back at Hally. “Ask Mistress Ass-On-Fire over there. She wouldn’t let us stop.”

“Don’t pretend you were against it.” Hally was grinning again.

“ _You didn’t stop_?”

“We rode hard during the day, then at night we would share a horse and take turns sleeping.” Hally looked extremely proud of herself. “I can see why Berdine has been hording her. She makes a very comfortable pillow.”

“How did your horses not drop dead under you?”

“That was the best part. We took advantage of the weigh stations on the main highway through D’hara. The soldiers stationed at them were always so generously willing to trade mounts with us.”

Cara looked at Hally with a little bit of wonder. She shook her head and patted the younger blonde’s shoulder. “You did good Hally.”

Hally beamed and then looked away, almost embarrassed, to scratch her horse’s neck. “I was highly motivated to see Berdine crap her pants when we walk into camp.” Hally glanced across at Raina then asked the questioned Raina must have been dying to know. “How is she?”

“You mean when she is not being impossible?”

That curled Raina’s lips into a soft smile. “If she is not being impossible, then she is not Berdine.”

Cara laughed at the truth of that sentiment. “She has been spending most of her time playing schoolmarm to the Mother Confessor.”

“Creator,” Hally exclaimed. “You let Berdine near the Mother Confessor with books? We are lucky she didn’t confess every last one of us and order us into a river.”

“Well fortunate for us all, she seems to enjoy it. By the time we get to Rahl, Kahlan will be able to send him off to the Keeper in High D’haran.”

They broke through the trees and into camp. Galina and Hannah volunteered to take the horses across to where the soldiers had crafted a make-shift pen. Cara led Hally and Raina across the clearing towards the Confessor’s tent.

She noted a flash of uncertainty cross Raina’s face before she slammed it again behind a mask. “It’s been a while, huh?” Cara asked now that the others were out of earshot. 

“I stopped counting the days after a year,” Raina replied quietly. 

“She didn’t,” Cara reassured, while simultaneously wondering when she became the type of person to offer assurance. She was certain the Confessor was somehow to blame for that. Maybe she had her spelled.

Nyda saw them approaching and her eyes widened slightly in recognition, before she ducked inside the tent. A moment later, Nyda, Berdine and Kahlan emerged, and walked to meet them half way across the clearing.

Cara wanted to roll her eyes and slap Berdine and Raina’s heads together. It had probably been close to a year and a half since they had seen each other. She couldn’t imagine they had even shared much correspondence in that time. But here they were, not even acknowledging each other, both standing at attention as if waiting the Lord Rahl’s command to go into battle. Kahlan must have noticed too because she looked from Berdine to Raina, before finally turning her gaze on Hally. 

“Mistress Hally, welcome back,” she said with a straight back and a small nod. “You will have to regale me with the tale of how you possibly managed to accomplish this so swiftly.” 

Hally tilted her head with a smile. “It would be my pleasure Mother Confessor.”

Cara raised a brow at Kahlan’s almost ceremonial demeaner.

“You must be Mistress Raina,” Kahlan said turning her appraisal on the new face. 

“It is an honour to offer you my Agiel in service, Mother Confessor,” Raina replied with a short bow of the head.

“Hmm,” Kahlan hummed with a small smile, as she was suddenly walking around Raina. “You must be weary from your travels.”

Cara supposed Raina was quite a sight compared to the rest of the Mord-Sith. Her jet-black hair, and almost as dark eyes, stood out sharply amongst the mostly blonde, blue eyed Sisters. But it hardly warranted this level of scrutiny. Her eyes flickered to Berdine, who was standing with her hands behind her back, staring off at nothing.

“Not at all Mother Confessor. If you have need for me, I am always ready to perform my duty.”

“Excellent,” The Confessor smiled almost lecherously as she stood behind the raven-haired woman, and, _was Kahlan staring at her ass_? “You will join me in my tent, and we will get better… _acquainted_.”

“Of course, Mother Confessor.” Raina agreed stiffly and immediately walked towards the tent, without sparing a glance around. Cara could only watch in disbelief as Kahlan followed her and they disappeared behind the flap. Her eyes landed on Berdine again, who’s face was now turning as red as her leathers. The brunette turned an accusatory gaze on Cara. Cara just threw her arms up in a shrug and turned to Hally, who didn’t seem to have an answer either.

“Berdine…” But she had no other words. That could _not_ have been what it looked like. Unless? Did Kahlan get her hands on that damned amulet again? Was half of Kahlan back in Aydindril balling in Zedd’s lap right now? 

Berdine took a few paces, then turned and took a few more, then stopped and stared at Cara again. A few more beats and she was off and storming towards the tent. By the time Cara caught up, Berdine had burst through the flap. “Mother Confessor, You sai…” Her words died on her lips.

Kahlan looked up at them calmly from where she sat at the table, sipping a cup of tea. Raina sat across, hands folded in front of her, sporting her soft smile. The Confessor raised an expectant brow. “Can I help you with something?” 

Berdine just worked her jaw, but no real sound came out.

“You know what,” Kahlan said, slapping both her hands on the table and pushing away to stand. “I kind of miss the stars. I think I will sleep by the fire this evening.” She started towards the door, pausing as she passed Berdine to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Berdine, you will stay in here tonight and watch my things.” Then she was gone. Raina’s small smile grew into a full-on amused grin. Berdine gaped and stared at Raina. Cara blinked, shook her head, and followed after Kahlan.

“That was cruel Kahlan,” Cara tried to admonish, but mostly it came out sounding impressed as she fell in step beside the Confessor.

“What?” Even Kahlan’s voice smiled. “Maybe now Berdine will actually settle down and let herself believe this won’t be taken from her.” She huffed out a little laugh of self amusement. “Don’t worry, as soon as we were out of earshot I apologized to Raina. Though after I explained, she seemed to agree Berdine was asking for it.”

Cara rubbed her hand across her face, not quite believing Kahlan had just done that. “You know you’re going to have to burn that bed tomorrow.” She grinned and enjoyed the blush spreading up Kahlan’s neck and into her cheeks. 

They reached where Nyda and Hally were still standing, looking a little awkward. Then Kahlan did something else unexpected and pulled Hally into a tight hug. “Welcome back Hally. I am sorry about that. Let’s just say I owed Berdine one.” 

The tall blonde didn’t really react to the hug, but was smiling again when the Confessor pulled back. “I knew I was missing out on the fun.”

“Well, you must have had quite the time yourself to be here now. Come let us find you something to eat and you can tell me all about it.”

They found some bread and cheese, then settled down against a fallen tree close to one of the fires burning around the encampment. Hally recount her tale in a little more detail as she ate. 

“Constance?” Kahlan asked. “Why do I know that name?”

“You’ve studied the history of talentless Sisters?” Hally asked around a bite of bread, while making short harsh jabs with her hand with an imaginary Agiel. “Seriously, the woman has no style.”

“She was Denna’s possessive little lacky until Denna left the Mord-Sith,” Cara explained. “After that she was just a temperamental bitch.” 

Kahlan’s eyes went wide in recognition. “I think Richard mentioned her. When he was taken and broken by Denna, she was there.”

“When Denna took Richard, and then you all killed Denna?” Cara asked with a raised brow. 

“Yes, I think so.” 

Cara exchanged a look with Hally. “Well, she is going to be trouble.”

Hally nodded her agreement.

“Who is going to be trouble?” Rikka popped down over the log, and beside Hally, bumping her shoulder as she settled in. “I hear we have you to thank for this meatless dinner?” She said as she plucked a piece of cheese from Hally’s fingers and popped it in her mouth.

“Rikka?” The ever-grinning blonde grinned wider. “Where the Keeper did you come from?”

“You think I was going to let Cara do all this unsupervised?” The animated Sister gestured around wildly. “How is she going to bring down Rahl, when she can’t even handle a skittish deer?”

Cara tilted her head meaningfully. “Actually, we needed somebody to watch the horses while we fight.” 

Hally just shook her head and ate another piece of cheese. “The Mother Confessor was there when the Seeker killed Denna,” she informed Rikka. “Constance is on a rampage.”

“Well crap. I knew she had it out for the Seeker. She blames him for Denna’s fall from favour.” Rikka turned towards Cara with a sly smirk. “Perhaps you better let me start sleeping with the Mother Confessor so that she is better protected.”

Cara rolled her eyes as Kahlan looked at her and laughed. Hally glanced between them with her eyebrows raised as if clicking the last piece of a puzzle into place. 

“Although,” Rikka’s eyes tracked over to the Confessor’s tent. “I don’t think anybody is going to want to be sleeping in there after tonight.” She looked back at Kahlan, “you should probably burn that bed.”

“So I’ve been told.” Kahlan answered flatly.

“We should all just be grateful the army has their command tents spelled to muffle the sound,” Hally added.

Cara noted the heat of the fire hid the Confessor’s flush a little better this time.

“Speaking of bed,” Kahlan looked fondly at the youngest Mord-Sith, “you must be exhausted. You should go find some rest.”

“Its fine. I’m not old and worn down like these two.” Hally ignored the scowls as she nibbled on some more bread. “I actually didn’t expect to catch up with you for a while yet. Did you run into trouble? How come you are still so far north?”

“When we realized the other Mord-Sith could sense me from so far away, we decided to proceed more cautiously. We were waiting here to see what happened during the moon, and now we are waiting for the Seeker to catch up.” Kahlan tense a bit as she spoke of Richard. “He has been delayed, but hopefully we will be back on the road soon.” She huffed and shook her head, then turned her gaze on Cara. “If he isn’t here in two days, I think we should move on without him.”

Cara raised her eyebrows and nodded. Guess that was that conversation done. 

As night fell, Kahlan and Cara proceeded to fill Hally in on the events of the past couple weeks. Hally was visibly sadden to hear of Vika. They had been taken around the same time, a few years after Cara, and had spent a lot of time training together as youths. “It was an honourable death. We should all be so lucky to go out so well,” she said quietly. 

“I intend to see you all live long enough for your skin to wrinkle and your hair to turn grey,” Kahlan insisted. That garnered three matching scowls, in turn causing a bright lit of laughter from the Confessor. “Would it not be a testament to your abilities to see me grow old enough to witness such a thing?”

“Mord-Sith do not die old in bed,” Rikka insisted.

Kahlan leaned forward with her head in her hand. “You do now.”

That did nothing to soften the sour looks hurled her way.

“Come Hally,” Rikka rose with a grimace, patting her Sister on the shoulder. “Let us away from here before the Mother Confessor compels us to knit booties or make jam.”

Kahlan laughed again. Hally dismissed herself, and she and Rikka moved off down to chat with some of the other Mord-Sith sitting on some rocks, around another small firepit. “You all seem awfully insulted by the thought of aging.”

“Mord-Sith do not die old in bed,” Cara repeated Rikka’s words more softly. 

Kahlan’s blue eyes turned on her sharply. They seemed to darken slightly as she took her in. Like she was trying to see the very thoughts in Cara’s head.

Truth was, Cara rarely thought about the future. Rarely thought about more than the day at hand. Each day brought a new challenge for a Mord-Sith. A new reason to fight and die for duty. Cara had never been afraid of death. Heck she had lost count of the number of times she had actually died.

This decision to return to Aydindril with Kahlan after ridding the world of Rahl, was far and away the most she had ever planned for herself. But she still thought little about it. Perhaps because it was something she did fear.

“You are growing old Cara,” Kahlan ordered sternly.

Cara tried to brush off the intensity with a laugh. “You really think that is something you can order, Kahlan?”

“Yes.” 

And there it was again. That look in Kahlan’s eyes. The one that felt like something important. The one that froze the very oxygen in Cara’s lungs because it felt like she might just be _that_ something. 

Then as fast as it was there, it was gone, and the Confessor was leaning forward to throw more wood on the fire, and reclining back against the log like nothing happened, once again leaving Cara to question if she had imagined the whole thing. 

“Kahlan…” Whatever she was going to say died on her lips as the world suddenly went dark. She flailed her arms around, pulling off a bedroll that had been unceremoniously dumped on her head. 

“Thought you could use these,” Rikka grinned down at her, as she handed another blanket to the Confessor. A muted crash and a laugh filtered over from Kahlan’s tent. “Unless you want to brave going in there to retrieve your own.”

Cara grinned and started to stand. Kahlan quickly grabbed her arm and hauled her back down. “No.”

“No fun,” Cara muttered.

Kahlan rolled her eyes. “Thank you Rikka,” she called off to the blonde who was already walking away. She shot up a hand in response. 

Kahlan started spreading out her bedroll on the ground. Cara stood up and shook hers out. 

“What are you doing?”

“Rikka doesn’t just do nice things,” Cara accused, still inspecting the blanket. 

“Are you afraid she put a spider in your bed, Cara?” The Confessor laughed.

Cara shot her a scowl. “I am not _afraid._ ”

“Then why are you holding your bedroll like it’s made of snakes?”

The blonde’s frown deepened.

“Don’t you think you’re being ridiculous,” Kahlan shook her head with a grin.

“Well then, you wont mind if we trade,” Cara challenged back, bending to reach for the Confessor’s bedding.

Kahlan’s fingers curled possessively around the edges. “No.”

Cara tilted her head in mock indignation, as the Confessor scrambled to crawl under the blanket. 

“I’m already comfortable,” she grinned up.

The Mord-Sith shook her head, and shook out the bedroll one last time as she scanned the ground for the optimal place to lay it. She sighed at herself as if there was really a doubt, and laid it almost flush against the Confessors. “You know,” she said as she sat down and began removing her boots. “There are other tents.”

“I know,” Kahlan acknowledged as she pulled her feet out of her bedroll to remove her own boots. “But I do kind of miss this sometimes.” She gestured up at the sky as she laid back. “Don’t get me wrong, I am so glad to have your Sisters with us, for so many reasons. But sometimes I miss how it was before.”

Cara grunted a laugh as she laid down as well, turning her head to watch the Confessor staring up at the night. “You miss the wizard’s snoring and Richard stalking around on watch like an army of Banelings were about to spring out of the woods?”

Kahlan met her gaze with a soft smile. “Not that far before.” Then she was spinning around onto her other shoulder, pulling the blanket tight as she curled into a ball, leaving Cara to stare at the back of her head.

\---------------

Sometime later, after being lulled to sleep by the warm flames and the fresh air, Cara was brought awake by the quiet murmur of voices. She peaked her eyes open ever so slightly to see Kahlan sitting up against the fallen tree, looking up at a very dishevelled looking Berdine. Her hair was sticking out of her braid, and the light of the fire revealed her leathers were only haphazardly done up. 

Cara grinned to herself and she closed her eyes again.

“I was just going to grab some food,” Berdine spoke softly. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t Berdine, I was just thinking about some things.”

Cara frowned wondering what was keeping Kahlan up. And why the silence was lingering. She almost opened her eyes, but then Kahlan spoke again, this time with a smile in her voice. “You look… well.”

“I am.” Berdine’s voice carried a lit of its own.

“You know,” Kahlan lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Cara probably still has some rye stashed in that bush over there.”

It took all Cara’s willpower not to reach over and punch the Confessor in the arm. _Traitor_.

“Well then,” Berdine laughed.

There were a few shuffling footsteps. “Kahlan,” the Mord-Sith hesitated. “Thank you.”

“Goodnight Berdine.”

She listened as her Sister moved off across camp, then Kahlan rustled around and settled back into her blankets. This time Cara stayed awake until Kahlan’s breathing evened out, then let sleep take her once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I mentioned a few places I had intended to bring Richard back next, but last second I changed my mind, and decided to bring Hally & Raina back first. I know the timing is a little tight for making it all around the world that fast, (that's what happens when you go off script), but I decided I wanted them to be back before Richard, so he didn't get in the way of some of the interactions in this chapter. Also its a nice comparison to see how fast Mord-Sith can get shit done compared to Richard, 😅
> 
> I also briefly considered writing Berdine and Raina's reunion in the tent as a side-piece to this, until I remembered I cannot write smut, and that was obviously going to be a big part of the reunion 😏. P.S. anybody hanging around this story waiting for gratuitous smut, you are likely going to be disappointed. I am sorry. It is not in my repitrour. Neither is spelling repitior apparently... REPERTOIRE! Thanks Google for reminding me I suck at French too. 
> 
> A small note on the noise cancelling tent. I meant to write that in somewhere before the return, but never got around to it. In my mind, armies with magic at their disposal would want to protect their decision making from eaves droppers. But at the same time, these are still tents, with flaps, and sit open on the ground, so I imagined a spell that dampened the noise, but could not completely squash it. Welcome to my brain.


	23. Chapter 23

Kahlan shut _Con ost Sentrosi_ and downed the rest of her tea. She could actually understand a decent amount of the text now in its literal form, but how word placement affected the context was still proving a challenge. She definitely had some more questions for Berdine. 

Kahlan smiled to herself. She actually had to order her and Raina to get some proper rest yesterday, after their all-night reunion. They somehow had themselves dressed, bathed and put together as if nothing had happened, before Kahlan had even woken the next morning. Even Raina’s leathers had been cleaned, and Berdine had been making the rounds as if it were any other day. The only sign anything was different was perhaps a looseness in Berdine’s shoulders that hadn’t been there before. 

Cara had told her it had been an extremely long separation, and Kahlan took a lot of pride in being a part of bringing that distance to a close. No matter what was going to happen with Darken Rahl, at least one good thing had come out of this whole situation.

Well, more than one thing. When all this started, Kahlan didn’t think the Mord-Sith would do more than begrudgingly follow her to the Pillars. Work with her, but apart, in a bid to get their revenge on Rahl and live up to some sense of obligation in exchange for their freedom. But every day it felt like these women respected her more. Accepted her more. And it went both ways. 

These women were loyal and dedicated, both to their cause and each other, in a way rarely seen. The Midlands would be well served if they chose to come back to Aydindril. Of course, that would not be an easy sell to the council, or the people, considering the history. But it would be worth the effort. She wanted these women on her side, and not only as a fighting force.

She had come to genuinely enjoyed their company. At this point she certainly counted Berdine as a friend. And there was something special in Hally, who’s potential was only beginning to be realized. 

Plus, they were Cara’s family. Every bit as much as Grace, in some ways more. Kahlan was only just coming to understand how hard it would have been for the stoic blonde to be so suddenly cut off from her Sisters. Treated like a traitor. She could see how much it meant to Cara, to be back among these women. To train with them, and hunt with them. Cara now moved with an air peace about her and Kahlan wanted to make sure she always had that. 

Guess that was another separation closed, she smiled again.

Kahlan stood up and stretched, squinting as she moved from the dim light of the tent into the bright light of the day. Camp was busy. Richard was due to arrive today. _Finally._ But one way or another, they were moving out tomorrow. After the moon, they had been gifted the luxury of time, but here they still sat, burning it all away. 

She knew how much it frustrated the Mord-Sith, because it frustrated her just as much. Richard’s drive to care for everyone with equal importance and fervour, was once one of the reasons Kahlan had found him so appealing. He truly had a heart of gold. But while everyone was of equal importance, the problems of the world were not. And stopping in Aultbea to help the town discover who had been burglarizing their winter stores, was not going to help the town if Rahl got back his power and threw the entire world into war again long before the winter even arrived!

Between Raina and Hally’s return to the group, and knowledge they were finally getting back to the task at hand, a lot of the antsy energy had dissipated from camp, and everyone was moving with a renewed purpose. Even the usually sulky Hania seemed a little less tense. With her Sisters at least. She was still no closer to warming up to Kahlan. You can’t win them all, she supposed. 

Kahlan took a deep breath and greeted Rikka who was guarding the entrance of the tent.

She was greeted back with a nod. “Good morning Mother Confessor. Did you enjoy your breakfast?”

“I did, thank you. The eggs have been a wonderful change from oats and the leftovers from yesterday’s hunt.”

Rikka hummed her agreement. “Unfortunately, that was the last of them. Would you like to send the soldiers on another supply run before we get back on the road?”

“Absolutely not,” Kahlan insisted, “we have been here far too long as it is.” She was not surprised to get no argument on that from the blonde. “Speaking of hunting, has Cara returned yet?”

“She didn’t go hunting this morning, Mother Confessor.”

“No?” Kahlan hadn’t seen her since she woke up. Though she supposed she hadn’t really been out of the tent. She just assumed Cara had gone hunting like she had every morning for the past week.

“No. I guess she wanted to see if Galina and Hannah could bring anything back on their own. They actually managed several rabbits, and a grouse, so there will be stew for lunch.”

Kahlan looked around camp and couldn’t spot Cara amongst the women prepping their gear for tomorrow. Maybe she went off to bathe.

“Rahl’s messenger is do to pass on the road this morning,” Rikka answered her thoughts. “She walked out of camp with Captain Meiffert when he left to confirm his passing.”

“Oh.” The eggs she had just consumed suddenly felt like bricks in her stomach.

“They only left about a quarter-mark ago. If you need her, we could send somebody to catch up.”

“No, that’s fine,” she hoped her voice didn’t reflect the tightness she felt in her chest. It was ridiculous. Cara was allowed to go scout. They were all on the same team here. 

“If you are feeling up for it,” Rikka cut into her thoughts again. “I would love to take you up on that offer to spar before we get moving. You would be a worthy match.”

That pulled a small smile out of Kahlan. And she could probably use the distraction now, to work off this tense energy she was suddenly consumed by. “I would love to. But give me a few minutes, I need a quick word with Hally first.”

Rikka nodded her ascent, and Kahlan moved off across camp. Her eyes unwittingly scanning the trees for any sign of Cara, until she reached where the young Mord-Sith was brushing down her mount.

Hally smiled brightly and straightened when she noticed the Confessor’s approach. “Good Morning Mother Confessor,” her greeting was as energetic as everything about her. 

“Good morning Hally. I was wondering if I might speak with you for a moment. I have a favour to ask.”

The blonde’s brow quirked in curiosity. “Of course, Mother Confessor. Whatever you need.”

Kahlan shook her head, “no, wait until you hear me out. This is not a normal favour.” Hally’s other brow joined the first. Kahlan gestured towards the trees. “Walk with me a minute?”

Hally laid her brush down on a stump, and moved with Kahlan into the bush. Not so deep that it would bring a horde of Mord-Sith in protection, but deep enough to offer some semblance of privacy while they spoke.

“First I just want to thank you again for bringing back Raina. I doubt another could have done so, so quickly and efficiently. Your dedication to your task and more importantly your Sisters is remarkable.”

“It was my pleasure, Mother Confessor. I owe Berdine more than I could ever explain, and I was glad for the opportunity to do this for her.” She pushed her braid back and added quietly, “They have a chance now.”

Kahlan smiled again, then asked something she had not intended, blushing as she did so. “Do… do you miss your butcher?”

Hally looked surprised by the question but then grinned mischievously. “I miss parts of him.”

The Confessor felt her cheeks heat further. “Will you go back to him when this is over?”

“It was,” Hally smirked again, “a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Then her face turned more serious as she ducked under a low hanging branch. “Many Mord-Sith choose to stay within the order for such proclivities. But that always seemed messy to me. With Rahl, there was enough ladder climbing and jealousy without dumping pitch on the fire. James was a distraction. A fine distraction, but a distraction none the less.”

Kahlan nodded as she processed that bit of information. She hoped she was doing enough to change this culture of power moves and domination that Rahl fostered as part of his control over these women. 

“But I am sure you did not bring me aside to speak about my lover?”

“No,” Kahlan blushed again. “Just lately I have been thinking a lot about what happens after we stop Rahl, and curiosity got the best of me.”

“I was hoping I would be allowed to follow you and Cara back to Aydindril. A Mord-Sith is built to serve, and it has been,” Hally’s brow furrowed slightly, _“nice_ , serving something I can believe in for once.”

Kahlan smiled warmly and stopped Hally with a hand on her shoulder. “You are most certainly welcome. And I believe Cara would like it too, though you might have to take your Agiel to her to get her to admit it.”

The blonde’s laughter was infectious. “I fear I am not that talented, my lady.” 

“I must warn you though. There will be resistance to your being there. I believe the people will come around, but it will take time.”

“Well that just sounds like fun,” Hally grinned again. “Now what favour do you need?”

“Okay,” they began walking again, and Kahlan was abruptly a bundle of nerves. “I must make this clear, this is in no way an order. You can say no. I know it is a huge thing to ask, and I will not force it on you or anybody else, and considering your history, I would not fault you in the least if you wanted nothing to do with this. So please do not hesitate to turn me down.”

“Got it, Mother Confessor,” the Mord-Sith said with amusement. “I can say no.”

“And call me Kahlan. For this. It is important to me that you do not feel… reduced in any way.”

Hally just looked confused now, and Kahlan knew she had to get to the point. “I have been learning a lot about the bond. About its importance, about its uses. Berdine has been helping me, and she thinks, no, we think, that it is vital that I work to strengthen the connection, so it is not left vulnerable, like the Rahl bond was. And that means,” Kahlan faltered, “learning to use it.”

Hally stopped walking. Kahlan quickly rambled on.

“Please understand, I do not actually _want_ to use it. I do not wish to control anybody. But we do not know what is going to happen, and I don’t want any of you to wind up paying for it, because I have not learned how to master a power that I asked you all to become a part of. Right now, I can’t even feel it, and I worry…” She wiped both her hands over her face. “Please say no if you have any doubt of my motivations. Or any discomfort. Cara has,” Kahlan grimaced, “spoken before about what it feels like. The violation of it.” Suddenly she was shaking her head and stepping away. “I am sorry. I should not have asked.”

“Mother Con… Kahlan,” Hally caught her arm to halt her and promptly dropped it. “I am not offended. What you say makes sense. And I certainly do not wish for Rahl or anyone else to have that kind of power over me, or my Sisters again.” She tilted her head curiously, “but why me? Would you not be more comfortable with Cara, or Berdine?”

“I thought about them both,” Kahlan admitted. “But Berdine is already helping me so much with the language and the spell. Now that Raina is back, I do not wish to steal any more time from her. And Cara…” she let out a long sigh, trying to find the right words to explain herself.

“You do not wish for Cara to feel inferior,” Hally supplied.

Kahlan was appalled. “I do _not_ think of you as an inferior Hally, and I certainly would never want to make you feel that way.”

The tall blonde shook her head and waved her hands, “I did not mean it like that. Just,” she chewed her lip and stared off into the woods as she searched for her own words. “That you are the Mother Confessor. You are pretty much the Queen of the world.” Her eyes returned to Kahlan’s full of knowing. “You wish for her to stand beside you, and as your equal. Your partner. And you would never wish to risk her feeling less than that by imposing your will on her like Rahl once had.”

Kahlan felt her entire body flush. Was she truly so transparent? She knew Berdine had her suspicions, and that was the root of at least some of her teasing. Now here was Hally, unapologetically calling it out. Still, old habits died hard, and she felt compelled to push back.

“Confessors do not have many friends. She is very dear to me.”

Hally stared at her flatly. Confessors cannot read Mord-Sith but apparently Mord-Sith could see through Confessors like a threadbare wet sheet.

She let out a defeated sigh. 

Hally laughed. 

“It is none of my business if you do not wish to speak of it.” The Mord-Sith smirked and started them walking again, “though it finally makes sense why Cara has been so apathetic towards to Captain’s advances.” Kahlan wasn’t so sure about that, but didn’t argue. “But at the risk of overstepping, Cara would be a worthy mate.”

“I know,” she admitted quietly. 

“As would you be for her.”

Kahlan blushed at the approval. “Thank you, Hally.” She wasn’t completely comfortable openly acknowledging this, but in light of what she was asking the young Mord-Sith to do, perhaps a reciprocal display of trust was warranted. 

“So, _Kahlan,_ ” Hally said, getting back on topic. “How do you want to do this?”

Kahlan smiled warmly. “I was thinking perhaps it would be best done in the evenings, when things quiet down around camp.”

The tall blonde nodded. “You know if you truly wish to strengthen the bond, you should consider having us say devotions.”

Kahlan had seen something about that in the book this morning, she would have to go over it again and ask Berdine. She had always thought devotions was just Rahl feeding his own power-hungry ego, rubbing it in the people’s faces that he essentially owned them. But still, “I am not sure I am comfortable with you all spending hours of your day on your knees praying to me.”

The Mord-Sith grunted a laugh. “I don’t think that part is necessary. When we are away from the Palace on duty, only a single devotion is said each day. If anything, one would assume more devotions would be needed the further away from Rahl you got, if repetition was truly a requirement. Berdine would know better than me, but I think reaffirming and recognizing the connection is the important part.”

“Interesting. Thank you, I will definitely consider that.” Kahlan stopped again. “And thank you for this, just remember…”

Hally leaned in with a smile, “I can say no.”

“Good,” Kahlan smiled back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I promised Rikka I would spar with her today.”

“Well then,” the Mord-Sith grinned. “There is no way I am missing that. I better go finish with my horse.” She started to move back the way they came, then turned around to walk backwards. “Mother Confessor?”

Kahlan met her eyes and waited.

“I assume there _are_ butchers in Aydindril?”

The Confessor laughed. “The worlds best, Hally.”

\-------------

Sparring with Rikka was proving a great challenge and an even better distraction from her impossible feelings, and more importantly what Cara might be up to off watching the road with Benjamin. 

“Not so easy when you don’t sneak in from behind now is it Mother Confessor?”

Kahlan smiled as she deflected Rikka’s right Agiel, then blocked her left with the same dagger. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized Mord-Sith were so oblivious to their surroundings,” she joked back. 

The Mord-Sith scowled, but her lip curled slightly, affirming her enjoyment. Kahlan took the best Rikka had to offer, deflecting each blow expertly with her blades. She wasn’t quite as fast as Cara in her movements, but perhaps a touch stronger, and her added height meant Kahlan couldn’t draw her in as easily. Or maybe Rikka had just been paying attention when she had sparred with Cara.

Regardless, Kahlan took her turn to advance, spinning and dipping, swinging up and down as Rikka blocked and ducked. She was impressed when the Mord-Sith halted her dagger with a twist of her Agiel, and managed to reverse their positions, then it was Kahlan moving back.

She was so caught up in her defence, she did not see the movement coming in from the side. But Rikka did. And before Kahlan even registered the attack, the Mord-Sith had the assailant kicked to the ground, face first in the dirt. She booted his sword away, and Agiel pressing into his back. 

A sound came out of the man that was somewhere between a grunt and a scream.

The Confessor’s weapons moved their gaze from the Mord-Sith to the man on the ground, as Rikka hauled him up to his knees. 

“ _Richard_?”

The Seeker looked up at her, eyes flying wide as blood dripped down from his temple. “Kahlan, run!”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see a half a dozen Mord-Sith forcing three more men across the clearing at Agiel-point. “Richard what on earth are you doing?”

“What am I doing? Kahlan, get out of here!”

Kahlan pinched the bridge of her nose, as Nyda approached. “I am sorry Mother Confessor. Amber and I were patrolling the perimeter just north of camp. I recognized the Seeker, and went to greet him, but he ordered his men to attack. It is my fault we were caught off guard, and before we could subdue them, the Seeker got through.”

“You can let him up.” She gestured to Rikka. The blonde let him climb to his feet, but didn’t move away.

Richard glanced around confused. “Kahlan, what is going on?”

“Richard…” she let out a long sigh. “Let’s move this to the tent.” 

Without a word, Rikka shoved him in the back, urging him forward. He shot her a scowl as he followed Kahlan. Once the three of them were inside Kahlan reeled on him. “Richard, what were you thinking! You are lucky none of you were killed!”

“Thinking? Kahlan, what are you doing with a bunch of Mord-Sith?” He waved emphatically at Rikka who was standing at the ready just inside the tent flap.

Kahlan shook her head in disbelief as she retrieved a small cloth from her pack and tossed it at the Seeker for his head. “Did Zedd not tell you Cara and I were travelling with the allies we made in D’hara?”

“Where is she!” An urgent yell broke through the camp.

“Tent,” several voices answered. Seconds later a very intense looking Cara burst through the flap, brandishing a single Agiel, and well, yup, she was stark naked.

“Kahlan! Are you okay? I heard… _Richard_?”

The Seeker let out a strangled whine as he diverted his gaze to the roof of the tent. “Cara where are your clothes?”

“Next to that Creator forsaken lake I was trying to bathe in,” she muttered irritably. “I heard the sound of blades clashing and came running.”

Kahlan didn’t hear any of it. Her gaze was too busy flicking about Cara’s usually perfect skin, which was now anything but. Small round bruises marred her torso, her thighs, her…”

“Kahlan are you alright?” Cara was looking at her incredulously. 

She forced her eyes back up to Cara’s. Her voice came out too quiet. “Cara are those love bruises?”

“ _What_?” Cara looked down at herself and back up.

“Cara, you have a love?” The Seeker glanced over excitedly then immediately turned his eyes away again. “You think you could maybe cover up?”

Cara sighed and stalked to the bed to retrieve the fur blanket to wrap around her shoulders, placing her Agiel down on the bed in its place.

Kahlan’s eyes followed her the whole way. “Cara,” she choked out, “its okay if you were with Benjamin. I just didn’t realize…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. So much for apathetic.

“ _What_?” Cara asked again, a visage of pure bewilderment. “Why would I be with Benjamin?”

“Well, you left with him this morning,” Kahlan tried to keep the accusation from her voice, “and, well,” she gestured up and down at Cara.

The Mord-Sith rolled her eyes.

“Could we talk about Cara’s relationship later, and maybe fill me in on what you guys are doing with a small army of Mord-Sith?” Richard interjected. 

“Wait,” Cara turned her dubious look on the Seeker. “Was it you who attacked our camp? Did Zedd not tell you?”

“Zedd told me you made allies and would be travelling with some of Cara’s friends.”

Kahlan turned up her hands. “Who did you think Cara’s friends _are_ , Richard?”

“Well friend is a strong word,” Rikka chimed in from her place by the door causing Cara to roll her eyes again.

“Do you really need to be here?” Richard turned his ire on the unknown entity in the room. “Can’t you wait outside, or something?”

“You just attacked our camp. Why would I leave you with the Mother Confessor?”

“I would never hurt Kahlan!”

“Obviously not. Your strategy is lacking and your skills subpar.”

“If you are on our side, don’t you have to listen to me now?” he shot back. “Technically I am your Lord Rahl.”

Rikka folded her arms, Agiels still in hand. “I do not serve the Lord Rahl.” 

“Since when?” Richard spat, and turned back to Kahlan, “how can you possibly trust them Kahlan? What were you thinking?” 

It hit Kahlan then. If Richard didn’t know they were travelling with Mord-Sith, then he certainly didn’t know about her and the bond. She was going to kill Zedd. She exchanged a glance with Cara, who had obviously come to the same conclusion. 

“I trust them because they have given me their word. Because of all the people in the world, they perhaps have the most reason to want Rahl dead. And I trust them because they have earned it, Richard. Every day since we have left the People’s Palace, they have proven their worth with their actions.”

“Kahlan they…”

“One of them has already given her life for me,” Kahlan halted his protest. “Rikka.” She did not want the woman to have to stand there and listen to the Seeker disparage her because he was lashing out from a lack of understanding. “Would you please see to it that the men out there are treated well and are uninjured. This was not their fault.”

“Of course, Mother Confessor.”

“Oh, and,” she glanced at Cara’s fur wrapped body, willing herself not to see what was underneath it. “Please have somebody fetch Cara’s things for her.

“I’ll think about it.”

Cara rolled her head. “There is a small lake to the north-east of camp. Galina or Hannah will know where it is.”

“And if you could find Berdine for me?” Kahlan added.

With a nod Rikka was gone, and the Seeker’s disbelieving gaze was on her again. “So, they listen to _you_?”

“I told you Richard, they have given me their oath, and,” she paused not sure if it was her place or Cara’s to disclose the full depth of that oath. “I believe they have come to respect me.”

“ _Believe? Respect?_ Kahlan listen to yourself, they are Mord-Sith!” 

“Enough Richard,” Cara warned.

He turned on the blonde, throwing his arms in the air. “And you! How can you leave her alone with them? You swore to me you would protect her.” He pointed back at the Confessor. 

“The Mother Confessor hardly needs a babysitter Richard, and even if she did, there is no one I would trust more with her than the women standing outside this tent.”

“How can you say that? You do remember how they betrayed you, right?”

Kahlan spoke before she could answer. “Richard, are you not the one that asked, no _insisted_ that I look past the red leather and see the person underneath,” she waved a hand at Cara. “See everything that was done to her? See the person she is, not the tool she was made into?”

“Yes, but that’s _Cara._ I spent time with her, I could see she was more than her training…”

“Then go spend time with them,” Cara cut in flatly. Her features were schooled, her voice calm, but Kahlan could see the anger dancing in her green eyes. “You think somehow that I am unique? That they weren’t all subjected to the same pain? That they too would not wish to become more than a slave to a madman?”

The Seeker suddenly looked like a chastised child, as he pushed his fingers into his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry okay. I don’t unders…” he let out a long sigh and looked at Kahlan sadly. “This was not the reunion I was expecting.” 

Most of the anger drained out of the Confessor at that. Richard had been away a long time and was a dear friend. This was not exactly how she thought his return would go either. She closed the few paces between them and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I am sorry you were caught unaware. And I _am_ glad you are back Richard.”

His arms tightened firmly around her. “I have missed you Kahlan. I have so much to tell you. And so much I want to talk about.” 

Richard leaned back, smiling brightly. Kahlan returned it in kind. Then he was leaning in again. She turned her head smoothly, in time for him to land his kiss on her cheek instead of her lips. She caught Cara’s slightly frowning gaze as she moved away.

“You should go retrieve your things and calm your men, Richard, then we can discuss what you have learned from the Sisters of the Light. Obviously, there are things we need to fill you in on as well.” 

“Of course, Kahlan.”

She poked her head out of the tent. Nyda and Hally were both standing at the entrance. “Could one of you please see the Seeker’s sword is returned to him? He can move around freely. He won’t be a problem.” She stepped aside to let Richard pass. He paused with a frown when he realized Kahlan would not be joining him, then stepped out of the tent.

When she turned around, Cara was looking at her with an unreadable expression. They should probably decide how they were going to tell Richard about the bond. Instead, she asked, “how is your hand?”

Cara frowned at her un-gloved fingers peeking through the blanket. “I am used to it. For short times it is not even a bother.”

“Does running half way across the forest count as a short time?” Kahlan teased. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Cara being so concerned for her safety, to forgo even clothing to rush to her aide. _And_ one of her Agiels. Then her smile fell away when she remembered who she was with, and the reason for her state of dress. “There is still some ointment in my pack if you need it,” she added quietly. 

Cara looked at her a moment with a creased brow, then sat on the bed and pulled over the pack. “I am sorry your reunion with Richard was not as you planned.”

Now it was Kahlan’s turn for confusion. Cara almost seemed angry as she wrenched the tin open. “I am sorry for Richard’s behaviour,” she answered back.

“His words are hardly your fault. Perhaps some blame falls to the wizard though for not properly warning him. Or at least for not warning us about not warning him.”

Kahlan hummed her agreement.

The blanket fell off Cara’s shoulders as she rubbed the cream into her palm, revealing an elongated bruise above her clavicle. Kahlan flushed and her stomach twisted. She didn’t know why Cara couldn’t just admit what she had been doing. She sat down and started mindlessly flipping through the books on the table. She did not wish to look at Benjamin’s marks anymore.

“I hear I missed a good time.” Berdine strut into the tent, and tossed a pile of leathers into Cara’s lap.

“That was fast,” Cara commented, and immediately began pulling on her pants. 

“Galina took a horse.” The brunette Mord-Sith sat down across from the Confessor, and shook her head at her Sister. “You know that lake is full of leeches.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Cara muttered dryly. She dropped the furs to don the top portion of her leathers, revealing her array of bruises to Berdine, who croaked out a laugh.

Kahlan’s eyes flashed back to Cara, “leeches?”

“Yes.” Marred flesh quickly disappeared as she expertly pulled at the ties. “I just finished Agieling the little bastards off when I heard the fighting.”

Kahlan hesitated. “Did they… get Benjamin too?”

“What?” she asked as she pulled on her boots.

“The leeches.”

Cara glanced at Berdine then back at Kahlan. “How would the leeches get the Captain?”

“Because he was with you.”

Cara looked at her with knit brows. “I walked with him part way to the road this morning. We were discussing when it might be prudent to bring in another messenger for questioning. Then I thought it might be nice to have a bath in some water that wasn’t colder than fuck. But,” she waved at herself annoyed, “apparently not.”

Cara rose, tightened her belt, and adjusted her Agiels, then moved to sit at the table.

“So, the love bruises are from the leeches,” Kahlan stated dumbly. Apparently aloud.

Cara was frowning at her again like she had possibly gone mad. Vaguely out of the corner of her eye she could see Berdine’s amusement clearly displayed on her face. But before anyone could speak, Hally poked her head into the tent. 

“The Seeker is back.” She glanced around the table and grinned. “What did I miss?”

Berdine smirked, “Cara made out with a bunch of leeches.”

“Really?” Her eyes brightened as she turned them on Cara. “Take your shirt off.”

Cara rolled her eyes.

“Maybe later,” Kahlan answered without thinking. Three sets of eyes slowly turned on her in disbelief. She waved her hands frantically. “I didn’t mean…” she sighed. “Hally could you just let Richard in please.”

“Certainly, Mother Confessor,” she nodded with a smile. She exchanged a quick glance with Berdine then disappeared out of the tent. 

Richard appeared a moment later, pack over his shoulder, Sword of Truth sheathed at his side, smiling at Kahlan like he just found the Stone of Tears all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are still rolling! Richard is back, so that should be fun for everyone.   
> Cara running naked into the tent was another homage to Faith of the Fallen, but again with more jealousy than the book 😂
> 
> Thank you all for reading and especially those who take the time to tell me what you think. Your support means so much to me.


	24. Chapter 24

When Richard returned to the tent, he walked in beaming as if none of what had transpired since he arrived had occurred. Beaming at Kahlan, that was. Cara resisted the urge to slip her hand across her thigh to grasp her Agiel. Apparently, the month apart had done nothing to dampen the Seeker’s enthusiasm for the Mother Confessor. Not that, that should be surprising. 

“Richard please have a seat,” Kahlan gestured at the crate between her and Berdine, then swept her hand at the Mord-Sith. “This is Mistress Berdine. She put herself at great risk to help us in D’hara, and is the only reason why we know where to find Rahl.”

Richard put his pack on the ground and took his seat, smiling at Kahlan the entire time, before turning to Berdine. “I thank you for helping Kahlan,” his hand stretched back towards where the Confessor’s rested on the table, to take it in his own. “It has been difficult being apart from her. Any part you played in keeping her safe, I am forever grateful for.”

“I’m Lady Amnell’s favourite,” Berdine replied with a toothless grin.

Richard’s face fell flat in confusion. But Cara didn’t really see it. Her gaze was frozen on where Kahlan was gently extracting her fingers from beneath the Seeker’s.

Kahlan cleared her throat and pulled her hands into her lap. “Richard, why don’t you start by telling us what Zedd has told you about what is going on. Then we can fill in the blanks.”

“Not much, apparently,” the Seeker sighed. “He let me know when you got to the People’s Palace, and found help there. That you were able to determine what spell Rahl was planning to use, and that Cara had convinced a bunch of her friends to come with you back to the Pillars of Creation.” 

“Cara doesn’t have friends,” Berdine grinned at the blonde. 

Cara rolled her eyes.

“Of course she does,” Richard insisted. “I’m your friend Cara.” 

Cara rolled her eyes harder.

“Well, that is definitely the abridged version,” Kahlan said. “When we arrived at the People’s Palace, Berdine had a good idea of why Rahl was dragging Nicci around. She helped me get into the library to find the exact spell.”

“You? What about Cara?” The Seeker looked between them.

“It was too big of a risk that she would be recognized, Richard. While I was in the library, she was off making allies with the soldiers we now travel with.”

Richard was openly frowning at Cara now. “You let her wander around the People’s Palace on her own? She is the _Mother_ _Confessor_ , Cara. You know what would have happened if she had been found out?”

“ _Yeah Cara_ ,” Berdine added.

Cara turned a brief sour look on her Sister before answering the Seeker. She was getting a little tired of being treated like she was mismanaging his property. “I did not _let_ Kahlan do anything, Richard. The Mother Confessor did what she always does, and that is whatever is necessary for the success of the mission.”

“Richard,” Kahlan added. “Cara could not have stopped me if she wanted to. It was important we discover where Rahl was as quickly as possible. I could help, and that is what I did.”

Some of the fight went out of the Seeker. “It was a huge risk, Kahlan.”

“Hmm, yes,” Berdine hummed. “Unlike battling the Keeper, or the Sisters of the Dark, the Mother Confessor might have been in great peril.” She rolled her head at Cara, “The air is quite dry in the library.”

Cara couldn’t stop a soundless laugh. Richard looked far less amused.

Kahlan pushed on with the story. “Rahl is trying to use an ancient, powerful spell to absorb Nicci’s magic. If he succeeds, he is going to take back the bond, and then subject the world to his rule.”

“We won’t let that happen Kahlan,” The Seeker leaned towards her meaningfully. “We will stop him.”

Berdine tossed Cara a sideways glance that she refused to meet. Richard had always been overly protective and idealistic. Often acted like his words alone would ensure success if he just said them passionately enough. But he seemed to be extra hyped up today. Like a puppy trying to get attention from its master by spinning in excited little circles. 

“Thankfully the difficulty of the spell means we have a chance to,” she sighed out. “He has had to dig out the ruins of the Pillars, and breach the barrier to the Old World to collect enough Sorcerer’s Sand to perform it. It has bought us time.” 

“Breach the Boundary?” Richard perked up a bit and waved at Berdine as he spoke. “Maybe you have the wrong spell. Zedd said nobody has passed the B…”

“He has already done it,” Kahlan said firmly. “I confessed a messenger over a week ago. He has the sand; he is working on excavating. Berdine has spent most her life studying at Darken Rahl’s behest, Richard. She has been an invaluable resource of information and you would be wise to consider any advice she has to offer.”

“Told you. Favourite.” Berdine smiled again.

“Okay,” Richard pushed his hand through his hair. “So Rahl is at the Pillars, I am assuming not alone?”

“No,” Cara answered. “He has a significant number of Dragon Corp, and anywhere from five to twenty Mord-Sith.”

Richard looked between the three women. “I thought the Mord-Sith were with you?”

“This is hardly all the Mord-Sith there are,” Kahlan pointed out. “We were able to convince most of the Sisters at the People’s Palace to join us, but there are still dozens stationed in the Temples.”

Richard shook his head. “I am still having trouble believing they are following you willingly on a mission to kill their Lord.”

Cara watched as Kahlan’s eyes tracked over to her. There was a question in them. And that question was do you want to tell Richard? 

It had been her decision, her doing. The bond. And perhaps it _was_ her place to tell. She knew the Seeker would take it personally that she had bonded herself to Kahlan. Especially considering how personally he took it that she broke the bond with him in the first place. And he would probably be angry for the consequences it had wrought on his _beloved_. However, Kahlan chose to embrace that burden on her own. By her own volition. She had taken on the duty Richard was born too, yet rejected. Knowing Kahlan, she would want Richard to hear that from her own mouth.

Before their wordless conversation could find an answer, Berdine spoke. “Because, he is not the Lord Rahl.” She tilted her head meaningfully. “As you well know. And preventing that sadistic bastard from regaining control of the bond is in all of our best interest.”

“So you’re doing it for yourselves,” Richard stated almost like an accusation. “And you think I should trust you?”

“If you want me to apologize for taking my freedom into my own hands, you will be waiting a long time. Not all of us have the Seeker running to our aide.”

Cara saw Berdine flex a gloved hand below the table. She’d known the woman for most of her life, and had rarely seen her loose control. But having her motivations judged by the very Lord Rahl that refused his duty. Refused the Mord-Sith and left them vulnerable to Darken’s return. It was testing her limits. 

“So yes,” Berdine continued. “I am doing this for me, and I am doing this for my Sisters. And I could care less if _you_ trust me,” she nodded her head across the table. “But I would like it if _she_ does.”

“I do,” Kahlan answered emphatically. “Look Richard.” Cara followed Kahlan’s hand as it stretched to touch the Seeker’s wrist. “I know you have spent every day since you left the Westland fighting the Mord-Sith and thinking of them as your enemy, but you can trust the women in this camp.” She squeezed his fingers, and Cara did _not_ feel a simultaneous squeeze in her chest. “Can you trust _me_ enough to believe that?”

And the tension drained from the Seeker again and he was all smiling teeth and eyes at the Confessor. “Of course, I trust you Kahlan.” He tried to turn his hand over to grasp her hand, but she pulled it back into her lap. “So,” he continued unperturbed, “Rahl has what? Possibly more than a hundred bodies defending him, against two dozen?”

“There is twenty-six of us in all. You and your men bring us to thirty.” Cara moved the books on the table aside to reveal the map underneath. “He has been sending messengers, north to Toth’Rang every two days in preparation for an attack on Aydindril.”

“Aydindril?” Richard looked sympathetically at Kahlan. “We should warn Zedd.”

Cara sighed. “He is already making preparations. Rahl is moving his men north to fight as a distraction.” She dragged her finger across the map. “So that nobody will see him sneaking in from the south, to attack with his new power. He will want to travel with as few men as possible to ensure the element of surprise. If he keeps sending messengers at the same rate, by the time we reach the Pillars his force should be significantly reduced.”

“But we will still be outnumbered as much as two to one,” Richard pointed out. “Perhaps we should send word to the Brennidon Garrison for reinforcements.”

“We thought about that,” Kahlan said. “But right now, the biggest thing we have going for us is the element of surprise. Rahl will likely be planning for an attempt by the Seeker and Mother Confessor to stop him, but he will not imagine them.” She pointed at Berdine. “The spell must be performed on the day of the full moon, which means we have time to move off the main trails, scout ahead, and make sure we get there undetected, to stop him. And even if someone spots all the red leather in the woods, they will not make the connection to us.”

“If we march south with a battalion of soldiers,” Cara picked up, “and word gets back to Rahl, he could barricade himself inside the catacombs before we have a chance to reach him. He would only have to hold out until the moon.”

“Besides,” Berdine was grinning again. “Two to one is the preferred odds when Mord-Sith fight. Otherwise, we would get bored.”

Richard shot her another questioning look, then bright eyes were back on Kahlan. “Well, we have faced worse odds before. And,” he said, suddenly bending over to rummage in his pack. “I have brought good news.”

“From the Sisters of the Light?” Kahlan asked.

“Yes.” Richard straightened back up, and was holding a bundle of rolled up parchment. “We found a prophecy that foretells of my defeating Darken Rahl.”

Berdine rolled her eyes. “Unless that parchment says _The Seeker Richard Rahl will kill his brother Darken at the Pillars of Creation,_ I highly doubt it.”

Richard ignored her, as he handed Kahlan the first piece of parchment.

She squinted at it, mumbling to herself. “Magic? Or Power maybe? Light, dark, end…”

The Seekers eyes went wide in surprise. “Since when do you speak High D’haran?”

“I don’t,” she laughed, “obviously. But hopefully I’m getting there.” She handed the paper off to Cara as Richard held up another

“That is the original. This one is translated into the common tongue. It means _Born of the power of two, the white light will cut down the darkness.”_

The three women looked at him blankly.

“Don’t you see,” he said excitedly. “The white light is the Sword of Truth! The Sisters of the Light believe this foretells of my killing Rahl.”

Cara and Kahlan exchanged a look, before Kahlan asked, “by turning the sword white?”

“Yes!” He smiled. “If we don’t stop Rahl before he gains his power, I can still cut him down with the Sword.”

“But Richard,” the Confessor’s brow furrowed, “you can only do that by finding love and forgiveness. That is if you can even get close enough to use it.”

“Well, he is my brother, Kahlan. I am sure…”

“Wait,” Berdine cut in. “That doesn’t even make sense. The Sword of Truth was forged by an ancient Wizard, how is it born from the power of two?”

“That part refers to me, not the sword,” Richard explained. “It can only turn white because of me and the power I was born from.”

The brunette shook her head. “Let’s pretend for a moment that is true. I don’t get how you can leap to _this_ power, being you. Surely there are a thousand forms of magical white light. There is nothing saying this is the Sword of Truth. Nor to indicate that Rahl is this particular darkness. This could be anything.”

Richard sighed like indulging a child, and handed her another parchment in High D’haran. “This one refers to me again as the one born of two powers. It says _the descendent of two powerful bloodlines must fight a powerful new force after the Keeper is defeated.”_

Berdine looked up at him dubiously. “How do you figure that?”

“Well,” Richard fumbled. “The Sister’s of the Light have been the keepers of prophecy for thousands of years. I think they would know.”

The Mord-Sith let out a grunting laugh. “Even if you could rely on prophecy, The Sisters of the Light have an agenda to protect their religious dogma.” She turned to Cara. “You know there are rumours they keep a Prophet locked up in their compound. I guess its easier to bend the narrative if you control the source.”

“And what do you know about prophecy?” Richard asked.

“Nothing,” Berdine admitted.

Richard leaned back satisfied. 

“But I do know High D’haran. And most High D’haran prophecies are pages long. With this small of a passage, you can’t even begin to guess which words refer to which. This” she pointed, “doesn’t necessarily mean descendent. It could mean creating or birth of, it just means it was preceded by something else. And without more context, you can’t say for sure if this creation is what is going to do the fighting or is what needs to be fought.”

Cara watched as the Seekers ears turned red.

“Look,” he argued. “We defeated the Keeper, and I am the descendent of the Rahl and Zorander bloodlines. Now a new threat is rising. The Sister’s translation makes sense.”

Cara wanted to note that it was pretty much Kahlan who defeated the Keeper by putting a dagger in his chest, but decided the clarification wouldn’t be welcome. She did however have another question. “But Shota said it would take a merging of powers to stop this threat.” She mindlessly handed off the prophecy Kahlan had given her to Berdine. “How is the Sword of Truth the answer to that.” 

“Maybe that refers to me as well.”

“I don’t know Richard,” Kahlan bit her lip and looked at him softly. “It didn’t sound like something that had already come to pass when Shota spoke to me. Surely if it already existed, she would have seen it more clearly.”

“Well, I don’t trust that Shota would have given you the full truth Kahlan,” he said patiently. “I know some of her visions have proven accurate in the past, but she has her own agenda. Besides, what else could it be? I don’t see a lot of powers merging around here, do you?”

Kahlan and Cara exchanged another look.

“Sorry Rick. You got this one wrong as well.”

All eyes turned to Berdine who was tapping her fingers on the parchment.

The Seeker huffed. “What do you mean _wrong_?”

“Your translation says _born_ _of_ the power of two, but it actually says _created_ _from.”_

“I don’t see how that is different.” 

“Because this word here literally means created or mixed to make something new. In all my years of study, I have never seen it refer to a birth of a person.”

Richard frowned and shook his head. “Not to disrespect your abilities, Mistress Berdine, but you really think your High D’haran is better than those who have been studying it for hundreds of years.”

“Yes.”

“Richard,” Kahlan spoke before he could go off on Berdine again. “Maybe you are right, and maybe you are not. One thing that is certain is prophecy rarely reveals itself transparently. The important thing is you are here now, and that gives us an even better chance to stop Rahl _before_ he gets this power. Then we won’t have to worry about how to stop it.”

“You’re right Kahlan,” the Seeker smiled warmly, suddenly looking a little shy. His fingers twitched in the direction of the Confessor. “Though there is one more prophecy we found that you might want to hear.”

The Seeker, Cara noted, was out of parchment. 

Richard smiled as if answering her question. “It wasn’t about Rahl, so I didn’t write it down. Besides,” he beamed at Kahlan, “I could hardly forget it. It said: _In the wake of the power of the light, the line of Confessors shall breathe new life._

Cara’s heart stopped.

“Wow, that one almost rhymed,” Berdine mocked.

Richard scowled at her, then turned his doting gaze back on the Confessor. “Don’t you see Kahlan?”

The Confessor was unreadable, but Cara certainly could see. She wondered if flipping the table would be an overreaction.

“Richard…”

Cara abruptly pushed away to stand. “I think I need some lunch.”

“That’s a good idea,” Kahlan agreed shakily, her unreadable eyes briefly boring into Cara. “I think I should go talk to your men too, Richard. Make sure they know they are welcome here, and introduce them to the soldiers.” She looked from Richard, back to Cara. “Then I think we should talk some more. There is something else you need to know.”

“Of course Kahlan,” Richard rose with a smile. “Lead the way.”

Kahlan and Richard were already part way across camp when Berdine and Cara emerged from the tent. The side of Cara’s head was immediately met with the palm of Berdine’s hand.

“What the hell!”

“When are you going to do something about that already?” Berdine looked purposely across camp.

“About what _?”_ Cara replied dumbly, stalking towards the fire where the stew was being kept warm. 

“You know these things are much like the bond,” Berdine postured. “If you do not take control, you are libel to lose it to somebody else.”

“There is nothing to take _control_ _of_ , Berdine. The Mother Confessor does not want me that way.”

“Right,” the brunette scoffed. “She is just ragingly jealous of the Captain for his knowledge of battlefield strategy.” 

Cara had nothing to say to that. Kahlan had definitely reacted oddly to her bruises. Still, “The Confessor has delicate sensibilities when it comes to matters of the flesh. She would be uncomfortable seeing any of her friends in such of state.”

“If any of my _friends_ looked at me like that, Raina would skin them to make boots.”

Cara shook her head defiantly. “It is hardly the Confessor’s fault if she notices how attractive I am. That does not mean she _wants_ me.” She bent down to pick up a bowl, and ladled herself some stew.

“Why are you being so wilfully ignorant about this?” Berdine fill her own bowl, then they took a seat on a nearby log. “What are you afraid of?”

The blonde scowled around a mouthful of rabbit. “I am afraid of nothing.”

“Really?” Berdine cocked a brow. “Then you should have no problem telling her how you feel.”

“ _I already did_ ,” Cara hiss to her Sister’s surprise, then straightened up and muttered, “she is not interested.”

Berdine looked at her incredulously. “You told her?”

Cara nodded.

“When?”

“Before we left the People’s Palace,” she tried to focus on her food.

Berdine craned her neck. “Are you sure you did it right?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to be punched in the face?”

The brunette laughed. “Look, Cara. I don’t know what happened, and I am sure there is no way I could get it out of you. But I _am_ Mord-Sith. Finding weakness is what we do. And if I were tasked to break the Confessor, the first thing I would do is come after you.” 

Cara just stared into the woods.

Berdine eventually scraped her bowl clean then tapped her spoon on her bowl, thoughtfully. “Perhaps she is holding back out of some other concern.”

“Richard,” Cara grumbled, her mind unwittingly replaying his stupid prophecy.

“Creator, I hope not,” Berdine made a face. “But she does seem overly apprehensive about her ability to confess.”

It was Cara’s turn to crane her neck. “How could you possibly know that?”

“She told me when I informed her she could have her share of our Sisters,” Berdine grinned.

Cara rolled her eyes.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t enjoy pushing at her edges. Its so easy.”

The blonde smiled at that. “Yeah, but no.” She shook her head and the smile slipped away. “Berdine, I travelled with Kahlan and Richard for months. They practically made out behind every tree in the Midlands. She did not know then she could not confess him. That would not hold her back.”

Berdine grunted. “I know you would rather be poked with a thousand Agiels, but perhaps you should try talking to her again.” She rose and took Cara’s empty bowl when she didn’t answer. “Or you know. Keep brooding.” She clapped her on the shoulder as she moved away. “It looks good on you.” 

\----------

It was quite a while before Kahlan returned to the tent. Cara sat on the edge of the bed rolling an Agiel between her fingers, glaring at Richard’s prophecies sitting on the table. What right did he have to just waltz in and declare Kahlan’s future like that? And what, because he could make his sword glow, that entitled him to repopulate the Midlands with little Confessors?

She jammed her weapon back in its holster. She had to calm down. She was being as ridiculous as the Seeker. Kahlan had a say in this. Just because the Sisters of the Light wrote it down on a piece of parchment, doesn’t make it true. And she had no right to react like this. As she knew all to well, Kahlan was not hers.

Cara cracked her neck, fingers gripping on the leather of her pants. Berdine’s words prodded around in her mind. She shook them away as Kahlan came into the tent. Alone.

She smiled softly down at Cara. “I am glad you are here. There is something I should tell you.”

Cara was not sure she wanted to know. Not with the way the Confessor was biting her lip. Not considering who she had just been with. “Where is Richard? Off in the woods crafting a bassinette?”

Kahlan rolled her eyes and sat down next to Cara. “He is talking with some of the soldiers.” She let out a sigh, and picked at nothing on the leather of her skirt. “I suppose I knew Richard would not just lay down and accept we have grown in opposite directions. But I did not expect,” another long sigh escaped the Confessor. “He spent weeks with the Sisters of the Light and the only thing he came back with was…”

“A declaration of intent to fill the world with Confessors?” Cara meant for it to sound bitter, but when Kahlan let out a huff of a laugh, Cara found herself smiling as well.

Kahlan shook her head. “I am going to have to talk to him again.”

“What if its right?” Cara was staring at the parchment again. The Confessor had changed her mind once on Richard, who is to say she wouldn’t again. Kahlan was quiet a long moment, but she refused to look over at her. 

“It’s not,” she finally said, quiet but determined. “It is no prophecy to say I will some day bear children. I am duty bound to do so; you know that. But even if Richard is right about this light being his sword, I see no connection to the two things, except one happens after the other. No amount of fortune telling will ever make him my mate.”

Not trusting her fears not to be evident on her face, the Mord-Sith nodded and continued to stare straight ahead.

Kahlan bumped her shoulder with her own. “In fact, I recall somebody telling me I do not even need a mate to bear children.”

Cara tilted her head and grinned. “I am surprised you remember anything about that conversation. You were quite… _muddled,_ as I recall.”

“How could I forget how sweet you were that night?”

Cara’s grin fell into a scowl. Kahlan laughed. Then she was chewing her lip again.

“Cara, I need to tell you something, and I am not sure you will be happy about it.”

The Mord-Sith waited expectedly, far less nervous about this information now that it did not appear to involve the Seeker.

The Confessor hesitated then spoke. “I think its important I learn how to use the bond.”

“That makes sense.” The blonde nodded slowly. “It is a part of you now, you need to know it.”

“I do not wish to control anyone.”

“I know that Kahlan,” Cara frowned over at her. “If you are worried I would think that…”

“I asked Hally to help me.”

Cara shut her mouth and her brows knit together. She nodded slowly again, not quite knowing what to say. “She is… okay with this?”

“I think so, yes. I made it very clear to her that it was her choice, and she could change her mind at any time. But I need to do this with somebody I can trust, and I am already asking so much of Berdine, and…”

“Why not me?” Cara’s frown deepened and she hesitated. “Do you not…”

A hand was instantly on her thigh. “More than anyone, Cara. Don’t ever question that.”

“Then let me do it.” Cara’s eyes locked on the fingers resting on her leg. They twitched as the Confessor let out a shaky breath. Then the hand was gone.

“The only reason all this is working,” Kahlan waved her hand in front of her as if seeing the entire camp. “Is because of you. Because your Sisters see we are working together out of mutual respect. They see you are still Cara, with all your free will and independence. If they even question that I am influencing you, they could lose faith in me completely.”

Cara was not sure at this point that was a concern, though perhaps it made sense Kahlan was worried about it. She had been intent on proving herself the antithesis of Rahl since the day her Sisters made their vow. “So Hally?” she confirmed quietly.

“I know you are protective of her.” Cara was frowning again. “But she is strong, and I think this will end up being harder on me than it will be on her.”

She finally looked over at the Confessor and nodded. 

“She is so much like you.” Kahlan smiled warmly and bobbed her head to the side. “Well, except perhaps a bit more happy.”

“Just because I don’t bounce around like I am the sun fallen out of the sky, does not mean I am not happy.”

“Oh yeah?” Kahlan leaned her chin into her hand. “And what makes the great Cara Mason happy?”

Cara grinned wickedly. “Killing things.”

The Confessor rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

The blonde looked up thoughtfully, “a good ale.”

“Naturally.”

“A beautiful woman.” Cara purposely let her gaze drop to the Confessor’s cleavage then quickly back up to catch the blush creeping across her ears and down her cheeks.”

“Anything else?” Kahlan practically breathed the words out. Her crystal blue eyes pulling her in.

“Kahlan is expecting me!”

Cara rolled her eyes away from the Confessor. “I guess Richard is back.”

A second later Nyda popped her head through the flap. “The Seeker has returned and wishes to see you.”

“So I heard,” Kahlan sighed as she got up from the bed and moved to the table. “You can let him in.”

“Right away, Lady Amnell.”

“Kahlan, can’t you tell them they don’t need to protect you from me?” Richard pushed into the tent and stopped short. “Oh, hi Cara. I thought you were getting something to eat.”

“That was over a mark ago. How long does it take _you_ to eat a bowl of soup?”

“Right. I just,” he looked at the Confessor with soft eyes. “We haven’t seen each other in a long time and I thought we were going to talk.”

“We haven’t seen each other in a long time either Richard,” Cara answered before Kahlan could. 

Richard laughed. “I missed you too Cara.”

“Lady Amnell,” Nyda poked her head into the tent again. “The scouts are back and ready to brief you at your convenience.”

“Thank you Nyda. Tell Captain Meiffert I will be there shortly. I have something to discuss with the Seeker first.”

With a nod, Nyda was gone again, leaving Richard staring at the tent flap. “Don’t they knock? And do they not know who you are? Why do they keep calling you Lady Amnell?”

Cara had a pretty good idea why. The majority of the Mord-Sith had gone from referring to Kahlan as the Lady Amnell in the first days, to slowly coming around to her title since the incident with Vika. But since the moment the Seeker, and Lord Rahl apparent, had wandered into camp, even Berdine had referred to Kahlan as the Lady Amnell. Cara’s lip curled into a half smile. Her Sisters were very firmly declaring their loyalties. Richard just didn’t know it yet. 

Kahlan ran a hand over her face. “Richard you better sit down.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to keep going and have them tell Richard about the bond now, but I thought he took enough of a beating for one chapter. 😂 We gotta spread it out. 
> 
> Berdine declaring herself the favourite is stolen from the books.
> 
> Thank you again for your awesome support! Your comments are my fuel!
> 
> I also just want to credit foibles_fables for RICK 😂  
> And if you are not reading The Weight of Us, you should go do that right now!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am about to cross 500 kudos and I am blushing. You are too kind. I still can't believe how well this has been received, and because of that, I never want to stop writing it!

Kahlan sighed and ran a hand over her face. “Richard you better sit down.” She wished she felt as relaxed as Cara looked. She really didn’t have any particular reason to be worried. She stood by her decision to have the Mord-Sith bond to her. In fact, it had been going even better than she had hoped.

It had been the right thing to do. Both because these women could help them with their task, but also because it felt like _she_ had helped them. She had gained allies, and she had gained friends. And who would have guessed under all that intimidating leather and apparent anger, was such a diverse group of personalities dying to be expressed?

She did nothing wrong. She had no reason to worry.

Except she _knew_ Richard was going to react to this about as poorly as Zedd. Especially if his reaction to walking into a camp full of Mord-Sith was any indication. Plus, there was the added matter of these were technically supposed to be _his_ Mord-Sith. Kahlan had stepped in and picked up, at least a piece of, the mantel Richard was duty bound to carry. The mantel he had refused to carry.

She imagined the Seeker was going to have a hard time wrapping his head around that.

“What is it Kahlan?” His honest eyes smiled as he took the seat beside her. His hand pushed forward slightly. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Kahlan took one last glance at Cara. Her eyes clearly said she would do this. But Kahlan knew it needed to come from her. So, she took the offered strength and ripped off the bandage. “It’s about the Mord-Sith, Richard. They are bonded to me.”

Richard sighed indulgently. “I know they gave you their word Kahlan, but I think you are putting too much faith in it. In fact, I suggest we cut ties while we have the chance. Maybe we can sneak away during the night. If we get ahead of them, I can hide our tracks…”

“I want their help Richard,” Kahlan pinched her brow. “I asked them for it. And you are not hearing me.” She looked him square in the eye and said again, “They are _bonded_ to me.”

The Seeker shook his head with a slight laugh. “To people like you and me, our word is our bond, but these are _Mord_ - _Sith_. They are ruthlessly dedicated to the Lord Rahl, no matter what words they may speak.”

“Actually Richard,” Cara broke in. She looked a little flushed. “There is no greater transgression for a Mord-Sith than breaking an oath.”

“I meant no disrespect Cara. I know your word is important to you, I…”

“Richard,” Kahlan spelled it out slowly, one last time. “The Mord-Sith are bonded to me, through blood magic. Like they were to Rahl.”

The Seeker’s jaw snapped shut. He stared at the Confessor blankly a moment, then his eyebrows twitched. “What?” His lip began to curl like he was catching up on the joke, then his features fell flat again when neither of the women in the tent joined in. He shook his head. “What are you talking about? They. _What_?”

Kahlan reached forward and gently put her hand on his. “That is the reason they sometimes call me Lady Amnell. Because I am their Lord now.”

The confusion danced across Richards face for another moment, then quickly morphed into anger. “What did they do to you?” He sprung up from his seat, hand already on his sword as he turned towards the exit. 

Kahlan quickly followed suit and grabbed his arm before he could make it any further. “Richard please sit back down.”

He turned his fury on her, the anger of the sword burning in his eyes. “No Kahlan! Whatever they did, I am going to make them reverse it!”

“Right,” Cara muttered sarcastically, still lounging on the bed. “You couldn’t even take down Rikka when you blindsided her, but sure, run out and wave your sword around. See how that works out for you.”

“And I suppose you knew?” Richard spat at Cara. “And you can just sit there and be okay with this?”

Cara tilted her head with a sneer. “I am proud of _this_.”

“Richard. Sit!” Kahlan tugged on his arm hard. She could see that Richard’s constantly jumping to the worst about the Mord-Sith was starting to wear on Cara. If he didn’t settle down, he risked permanently damaging their relationship. “They did nothing to me. It was Zedd’s spell.”

The Seeker’s anger evaporated into confusion once more. “What spell?” He slumped down in his chair. “Zedd is in Aydindril, how… you must be mistaken Kahlan, he wouldn’t do that.”

“It was my spell.” Cara offered, perhaps a bit stiffly. The first indication she was worried at all. “The one he made for me to break the bond.”

Richard’s head jerked towards the Mord-Sith then back to Kahlan. “But that’s not possible. Zedd said that would only work for a single person.”

“Well, its not the first time the wizard’s magic didn’t do what he planned,” Cara grumbled.

“Yeah, but, wait,” the Seeker’s brow furrowed intently. “How could a spell that bonded you to yourself, bond Kahlan to a bunch of Mord-Sith? That doesn’t even make sense.”

Kahlan watched as Cara took a deep breath, and level an emotionless gaze on the Seeker. 

“Because I did not bond to myself, Richard. I bonded to Kahlan.”

The silence in the tent was louder than a thunderclap. Richard just stared and stared at Cara, but said nothing. He didn’t even move, but for a few muscles in his forehead occasionally contracting. Cara sat stoically, waiting for his response.

In the end it was Kahlan who could no longer stand the silence. “When we arrived at the People’s Palace, it didn’t take long to realize something was going on. I consulted with Zedd, and we concluded that when my magic bonded to Cara’s it developed somewhat of a taste for Mord-Sith magic. Now it recognizes it, and even draws it in like a magnet. At first, I had to be close for the Mord-Sith to sense it…”

Richard forced his eyes away from the Mord-Sith. “Sense it?” His voice was quiet as he looked up at her. “So they are not bonded to you. Just attracted to your magic.”

“No Richard. They are bonded to me.” She unconsciously moved around the table to stand closer to Cara. “They weren’t at first. Because Cara’s spell required an oath, the Mord-Sith could not hook into the bond unless they did the same. All those in this camp, as well as several more, have done so.”

“You are trying to tell me a bunch of Mord-Sith willingly bonded themselves to a Confessor? Wait. How did they even know to make an oath?” His eyes turned back on Cara, full of accusation. “How could you do this to her? Because I refused to be the Lord Rahl, you forced it on Kahlan?”

Cara stood abruptly and slammed her hands on the table. “I forced her to do nothing, Richard! You think because you are the Seeker, you know everything?” The blonde was seething. “I told her we should finish our business and leave. I would never ask her to shoulder a burden that was not hers to bear.” She pointed through the tent. “That was _your_ duty Richard. Yours.” 

Kahlan put a hand on the swell of Cara’s back and she visibly relaxed. But her eyes still held the Seeker. 

“Though I would never have asked this of her,” she said now dead calm. “I am forever indebted to her for doing it. She has given them the same chance you judged only me worthy of.”

Then she was gone. Snatching up her bow from the side of the tent on her way out. It took everything in Kahlan not to run after her out the door. But she knew Cara would not appreciate it. She had just lost her self control in public. She would likely make herself scarce for the next several marks, only to come back and pretend nothing had happened.

And she still had the Seeker to deal with. 

“Richard that was uncalled for.”

The Seeker sighed. “You don’t have to apologize for her Kahlan. Obviously being back around these women is having a bad influence on her.”

That’s when Kahlan slapped him. He stared at her in shock.

“What the hell is wrong with you Richard?”

“Me? Kahlan…”

“Enough. You have no right to talk to Cara that way, and I will not let you speak ill of anyone in this camp. One of them died for me, Richard,” she placed both her hands on the table and leaned towards him, forcing him to look her in the eye. “ _Died_. She jumped in front of a Gar, and was torn to shreds for no other reason but to save my life. So you do not get to show up here and after a few marks think you have everything figured out.”

Richard opened his mouth but Kahlan kept talking.

“I am sorry you were not fully informed about what has happened before you arrived. I know it must be confusing, and concerning, and I am sure this thing with me and the Mord-Sith is stirring something up for you, but you just _can’t_.”

“Did you really choose this for yourself?” He stared at his hands as he spoke.

“Yes. I felt it gave us the best chance for success. It was completely my decision and I would do it again.”

“And you really think you can control them?”

“I am not trying to _control_ them. But they will follow me, yes.”

He nodded dumbly, then wiped his face. “This whole day has been… not what I expected.”

Kahlan finally slunk into the chair beside him. “Me either Richard. I know this will take some time for you to get used to, but you said you trusted me. So, trust me. This was the right thing to do.”

Then the Seeker was holding her hand again. “I do Kahlan. I will. I think maybe… it has been a long journey to catch up with you. Maybe I should get some rest before we move out tomorrow. I think it will help to clear my mind.”

“Of course, Richard. We will need to talk again, but for now, get some rest.” Kahlan squeezed his fingers. “I asked Captain Meiffert to set up a tent for you and your men.”

Suddenly Richard looked hurt and confused again. “With the D’haran soldiers? What’s wrong with here?”

She sighed, hoping this wasn’t about to turn into another argument. “Whether you claim the title or not, you are still the Lord Rahl, Richard. In the eyes of the Mord-Sith. And I promised them they’d be free of that. Each and every woman in this camp, chose to break their bond to the Lord Rahl. They took a huge risk in bonding themselves to me and I take that very seriously.” She gave his hand one last squeeze and pulled away. “I don’t want to damage that trust. And especially after how things have gone today, I think its best if you stay with the soldiers.”

He still looked upset, so Kahlan added, “I am sure in a few days, you will come around to them, and they will come around to you, Richard. But this will go better if we don’t force it.”

He finally nodded again, and bent to collect his pack.

\-----------

She lost herself in the steady rhythm of hooves prodding gently across the forest floor. It was nice to be back on the road. Moving. Feeling like they were doing _something_ to stop the looming threat. She chanced a glance beside her to where Richard rode nearby to her left. Fortunately, the thickness of the forest was forcing the riders further apart than they would normally travel on the road. That distance felt like a gift this day.

A wave of guilt passed through her. Richard had been gone for so long, she _should_ be celebrating his return. But a series of difficult conversations yesterday had left an uneasy tension in the Confessor any time Richard glanced her way. Especially since the most difficult conversation was still to come. 

The Seeker’s head began to turn and she quickly moved her eyes ahead. Every time he looked at her, his eyes were filled with a mixture of apology and worse, a soft hope that she knew she was only going to have to squash. That made her both sad and a little angry. She understood that Richard loved her. And those feelings would not easily diminish. But instead of considering her words during their separation, like she had asked, it felt as if he had spent their time apart fortifying a defence against them. Did he even look for answers to the Rahl problem, or had he conscripted the Sisters of the Light to construct them a perfect ending through prophecy?

Seriously, Richard, _babies_? She sighed and scratched the neck of her stallion, and he neighed appreciatively. As she ran her fingers through his silky mane, she glanced ahead. It seems with Richard’s return, so too came Cara’s habit of leading the group on the road. She selfishly hoped it had to do with the strained end to the conversation yesterday and not Richard’s stupid proclamation of his destiny to father her children. 

Once again Kahlan felt trapped by her power. It would take one simple act. One simple proclamation on _her_ part to put an end to Cara’s doubts. It would be so easy. And she was getting tired of fighting it. More and more she was questioning if she even should. 

She was keeping Cara at a distance, why? It’s not like Cara didn’t know exactly what she would be getting herself into. As she was so fond of telling Kahlan, Mord-Sith knew more about Confessors than Confessors did. Every day they were marching closer to their possible end and if Cara was willing to risk… Her thought died before it could finish. _She_ could not risk confessing Cara. That is the one end she could never allow.

Maybe when this was over, she could recruit Berdine to help her with this problem. Let her loose in the Wizard’s Keep to find an answer to confession. Berdine said she had no knowledge of such a thing, but she studied in D’hara. Confessors were created by the Wizards of Aydindril. Maybe there was something there. 

If nothing else, the woman was an encyclopedia of information; perhaps she would have a lead on where they could find a Rada’Han. Kahlan blushed at the implication of her own thought, and was simultaneously a little ill. The idea of binding her power did not sit well with her. Ironically, considering how much time she had spent cursing it lately. But she had experienced it once. In Caddock.

The fears and doubts of her emerging powers had scared her and briefly caused her to hide from herself. The feeling of the Rada’Han supressing her power was almost like suffocating from the inside out. But she could endure that, for a short time. If it could give her Cara.”

Her eyes followed the blonde, easily moving her mount amongst the trees. She had barely seen her since she stormed out of the tent yesterday. After Richard left, Kahlan went to speak with the Captain about their scouting plan. She had expected to see Cara there, but she was not. Then she got caught up with Berdine in their lesson, followed by an awkward couple of marks sitting across from Hally, staring at her, trying to feel _something._

When it was time to turn in, Cara had still not come back and Kahlan had given up that she would. She thought that Cara must have tucked into one of her Sisters’ tents to sleep. But somewhere in the middle the night, she woke to the now familiar feeling of the blonde crawling into bed beside her. Still half asleep, she rolled onto her back, and turned her head.

Cara was laying on her side looking at her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered after a long moment.

“Don’t be,” Kahlan said groggily, reaching for Cara’s fingers that were sitting between them on the mattress. “I’m glad you’re home,” she mumbled with sleep. Then she passed out again. Of course, when she woke in the morning, Cara was already up and prepping for the ride, which she was now spending firmly ahead of the group, probably avoiding Richard for one reason or another.

But whichever reason, Kahlan was not going to let Richard chase Cara from her side. She gently urged her horse to pick up his pace, and didn’t have to look to know that Berdine and Raina riding near by would match it. She didn’t make it far though, before it felt like the bottom had fallen out from under her. She quickly wrapped her hands around the horse’s neck to keep from falling. Several seconds passed before the roiling stopped and she regained her bearings. When she looked up their procession had halted, and Berdine and Raina had their horses pressed in close on either side of her.

“Kahlan!” Richard cried almost desperately. She glanced over to see Galina and Nyda had boxed him out with their mounts. Another wave of dizziness crashed through her and she leaned forward once more.”

“Are you alright Mother Confessor?” Raina put a concerned hand on her arm.

“Yeah, its fine.” When she raised her head again, Cara was directly in front of her frowning in concern. The Confessor smiled crookedly. “I think Solvig reached the temple.”

Confessor’s can’t read Mord-Sith. At least not when they are actually _trying_ to hide behind their mask. Which Cara apparently was not. Kahlan’s crooked grin turned into a tight-lipped smile.

“The bond?” Berdine asked. 

Kahlan nodded. 

“How many?”

“I don’t know,” she said, finally straightening in her saddle. “A lot. It all kind of blended together.” She turned to Raina. “How many were there left at the temple?”

“Kahlan! Let me through!”

“I’m okay Richard,” she waved at Galina to let him pass. 

“You’re not fine, Kahlan. You almost fell off your horse!” He pushed his mount in between her and Raina. “Are you ill?”

“No.” She looked at him wearily wondering if this was going to set him off again. “It’s nothing bad, some more Mord-Sith just bonded to me.”

“What? Where?” The Seeker looked around the forest in confusion. “Wait, it _hurts_ you?”

Kahlan sighed, “It doesn’t hurt Richard. At least not me. But I _can_ feel it. Usually, its just like a slight pull as the magics connect, but I think a lot of them just did it at the same time.”

“There were thirteen Sisters left at the Temple after we left, Mother Confessor,” Raina leaned around the Seeker to answer her earlier question. “I can think of two or three stationed there, who would be likely to refuse,” she made a face, “but one of those was Constance.” 

“Constance?” Richard looked between the raven haired Mord-Sith and Kahlan. “The Constance that helped Denna torture me _Constance_?”

“Yeah and she is not really your biggest fan Rick,” Berdine offered. “Kind of went on a bit of a rampage when she found out we chose the Mother Confessor.”

“Is she going to be a problem?” Richard frowned. “Maybe we should send somebody to find her.”

“Well, she killed one of their Sisters, Richard, so she is already a problem.” It suddenly hit Kahlan in a round about way, a second Mord-Sith had died for her. She let out a breath. “Somebody is already after her, but we can’t spare any more bodies until we deal with Rahl. Stopping him is the priority.” Just add it to the list, she thought, including the trainees, and alerting the other Temples of their ability to bond to her. She sighed again. Nothing is ever easy. “Let’s keep going.”

“Maybe you should rest a bit Kahlan.” Richard looked at her with worried eyes, then glanced around again. “And, I still don’t get it. Where are these new Mord-Sith? Maybe we can send _them_ after Constance.”

Berdine grunted. “About a month’s ride north of here.”

“Unless you’re with Hally,” Raina muttered. “And don’t mind rubbing your ass bare.”

“Aww, sweetie, I kissed that better for you.” Berdine grinned, then directed her gaze at the Confessor. “I wanted to thank you again for inviting us to your bed the other night, Lady Amnell. It was most enjoyable.”

“ _What?”_ Richard sputtered.

Kahlan shook her head and palmed her face, hiding a small smile even as her ears heated. Berdine needed no encouragement.

After thoroughly explaining to the Seeker again how the bonding worked, they finally got moving, quietly picking their way through the woods for the rest of the day. Cara, who had said nothing during the whole ordeal, still road ahead, but now directly so, instead of thirty yards away. Richard had staked out a place just behind to her left and wouldn’t let it go.

The trees had opened up a bit and the sun was getting long through the branches when he came up beside her. “Kahlan,” he whispered.

“Yes Richard?” she glanced over.

“I don’t want to upset you. I know you said we could trust them, but…”

Kahlan let out a long breath. “But what?”

“I’m concerned.”

There was a surprise. 

The Seeker leaned in closer. “How do we know this isn’t some sort of scheme to lure us to the Pillars so Rahl can kill us?”

“Richard,” she said with as much patients as she could muster. “They guard my tent every night while I sleep. If they wanted to kill me, I don’t think they would wait until the Pillars to try.”

“Well then maybe Rahl wants us alive.”

“ _Richard_.”

“Its just,” he lowered his voice further. “Those two have been whispering to each other for several marks now.” 

The Confessor followed his less than subtle gaze behind to her right where Berdine and Raina were now riding close together. She actually laughed out loud, quickly waving her hands at the Seeker’s frown. “I’m sorry, its… Berdine and Raina, they are in love, Richard.”

Kahlan almost laughed again when Richard suddenly looked like he was trying to do a complex mathematics problem in his head. 

“Love?”

“Yes. And Rahl punished them harshly for their feelings. They only recently reunited after a long separation.”

“Oh,” his eyes suddenly soft. “Well, I guess I can understand how difficult it is to be away from your love.”

She was obviously going to have to talk to Richard sooner rather than later.

“Meiffert!” Cara abruptly called out, spurring her horse to catch up with the soldier. “We should find a place to make camp.”

\------------

Kahlan shut the journey book as Hally came into the tent and sat down across from her. “Good story?”

She smiled warmly at the blonde. “In a way. Zedd found some ancient maps of the catacombs in the Wizard’s Keep today. He is going to sketch them into the Journey Book for us. It looks like originally there were multiple ways in, and perhaps some of them might still be held intact, hidden in the hills behind the Pillars by magic. Perhaps if we can find a back way in, we can take Rahl by surprise, and it will not put so many lives at risk.”

“We are not afraid of the front way, Mother Confessor.”

“I know Hally,” she shook her head softly. “But I will not put your lives in more risk than necessary.”

“But it won’t be _our_ lives in peril,” the blonde grinned confidently. 

Kahlan couldn’t help getting caught up in it, despite the over confidence. How a Mord-Sith went through years of pain and manipulation, and still came out the other end so… _joyous_ , was beyond her. 

“So, _Kahlan_ ,” the Mord-Sith continued. “Are we going to sit here talking, or are you going to look at me all night?”

The Confessor laughed. “I am sorry Hally. I know this is awkward, but I don’t know what else to do. Berdine thinks if I just keep reaching out, eventually I will connect with it.”

Hally’s grin widened. “Hey, if a hot woman wants to just sit there and stare at me, who am I to say no?”

Kahlan pushed her fingers into her forehead as if to push away the blush. “Is that like part of the Mord-Sith training manual, or do you all just come by it naturally?”

“What?” Hally asked innocently.

Kahlan shook her head with a smile. “Never mind.” It had been immediately obvious that Hally had been the right choice to undertake this with. She had a calm confidence, and her upbeat demeanour kept Kahlan at ease. And even when Kahlan started feeling absolutely ridiculous the blonde held no judgement. “I just wish I knew what I was suppose to be feeling _for_ , you know?”

“Well,” Hally furrowed her brow. “For me it is… _tingly_.”

The Confessor flushed at the now familiar description of her bond. “So I’ve heard.”

Hally huffed a laugh. “And it pulls us towards you. That is how we found your camp upon our return. The feeling is subtle though. If I am not thinking on it, I often have no notice of it. But as soon as I have a conscious thought of the bond, it is there. Sort of like breathing. Does that make sense?”

Kahlan nodded. “It is similar with my Confessor power. It is always there. I am always holding it in. But it is so much a part of me, unless I am thinking about it, it fades into background noise.” Her brow pinched as she tried to decide whether to ask her next question. “Was, was it subtle with Rahl?”

“That would depend on his mood, but generally, yes.” Her face darkened somewhat, ‘that is as long as his attention was not on you.”

“I’m sorry Hally.” She reached her hand part way across the table in apology. “I shouldn’t have asked. Remember any time you want to stop, anything you are uncomfortable with…”

“I know Kahlan. It’s okay. Not speaking of it, doesn’t change what happened. And I want to help. In fact,” the blonde abruptly stood, smiling once more. “I have an idea.” She moved over to the bed, and promptly sat down cross-legged. She beckoned the Confessor to follow her with a wave. “Come.”

Kahlan furrowed her brow but followed the Mord-Sith onto the bed, mirroring her position. The Mord-Sith took off her gloves and held out her hands. She eyed them dubiously. “You think this is going to help?”

Hally threw up a shrug and a grin. “Hell if I know, but I saw some Monks of the Raug’Moss praying like this once, so I figured it can’t hurt.”

“Okay,” she laughed, taking off her boots to sit more comfortably. “Its worth a shot.”

“Besides,” the blonde wagged her eyebrows. “This way I can watch Cara try not to scowl when I tell her we were holding hands.”

Kahlan rolled her eyes. “ _Hally_.”

“What? If you two are going to make us all suffer through this dance, we should get to have our fun.”

“It’s not a dance, its…” she rolled her head back and stared at the roof of the tent. _Frustrating_ was the only word she could come up with.

“I know I said it was not my business,” the blonde said earnestly. “But you must know she feels for you too. I don’t understand why you hesitate to feel for each other, you know, together.” 

“Because its impossible, Hally.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a _Confessor_.” 

Hally craned her neck like that was the weakest excuse she’d ever heard. 

“I would kill her, when, if we…” Kahlan flushed and trailed off.

“Nonsense. Cara wouldn’t let that happen.”

Kahlan stared in disbelief. “I don’t think Cara would have a choice in the matter.” What was with Mord-Sith and this blasé attitude towards having their souls destroyed in an excruciating death.

A blonde head bobbed, unconvinced. 

She sighed and held out her hands. “Lets just do this.”

“Of course.” Hally took their hands together and relaxed them on the tops of their knees.

“And…”

“If I want to stop, just say so.” The Mord-Sith rolled her eyes, before she closed them.

Kahlan followed suit. And just as the night before, she focused on pushing herself out with the exhale of her breath. Pushing herself towards Hally, reaching to grab a feeling she didn’t know. Occasionally frustration would get the best of her, but intuitively the Mord-Sith would give her hand an encouraging squeeze, and she would go on. Feeling into the void.

It was a mark and a half later when she felt, _something_. It passed before she could grab hold. Just a fleeting moment of connection, so fast she wasn’t even sure it was there. But when she opened her eyes, Hally was grinning. Finally, something to build on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of Kahlan & Cara in this chapter, but sometimes we have to deal with the boarder plot. Also Richard continues to be the worst, and took up a lot of oxygen here.
> 
> The Rang'Moss are a reclusive group of healing monks in D'hara. I don't know that we will ever actually see them, (at least not in the first part of our saga), I just like to use real things from the Seekerverse when I can.
> 
> And I had a request that Richard get punched in the face. I hope the slap was enough. :-P
> 
> I am gong to try and squeeze out one more thing here for you before Christmas, (its gonna be a one-shot) but in case I don't finish in time, have a great holiday!


	26. Chapter 26

_“And what makes the great Cara Mason happy?”_

You.

It had been dancing on the tip of her tongue. But a moment longer it would have escaped. Out there, in the open, for Kahlan to grasp on to or reject once again. Emboldened by her talk with Berdine, she had been ready to end this twisting in the wind. To stop this analysing of every single thing the Confessor did for clues like a coward, instead of just coming out and _asking_. 

She wondered when she had become so soft. Cara Mason does not _hide_ from anything, least of all something as weak as _feelings_. 

But it had been a long time since she had hoped for anything.

She watched, entranced by her own gloved fingers drumming mindlessly on the table. She should have said it first. Instead of toying with her. She was going to say it next. If Richard hadn’t happened. 

Now Richard was happening, everywhere, all the time. Even when he wasn’t in front of her face, he was still _there._ A shadow over everything.

Now she was mad. 

Mad at the way the Seeker spoke of her Sisters. Mad at the accusations he had levelled at her. Mad at the way, that despite how mad she was, she still felt _guilt._ Guilt that her choices had caused Richard pain. Guilt for her desire for the woman _he_ loved. Guilt that she wanted nothing more than that woman to choose her. 

Then Richard and Kahlan in the same thought brought her back around to angry again. Seething actually. The way he acted entitled to her. That alone proved he did not deserve her.

She didn’t either. At least she knew that.

But she could try.

“What do you think Cara?”

“Yes.”

A quick look up determined her attempt to appear like she hadn’t zoned out of the entire conversation had failed. Richard looked puzzled. Kahlan looked amused at least.

“I asked if this looked more like rocks or a lake?” she smiled knowingly. They had been at this forever. Huddled over Zedd’s simplistic sketch of the catacombs, a two-page network of rooms and tunnels, comparing it against a series of more detailed maps of the area, trying to match up landmarks to possible entryways.

To Cara it felt like the only point of this exercise had been to allow the Seeker to hover closely over the Mother Confessor’s shoulder for marks on end. As he did now. Leaning forward, brushing along her side, to point to what Kahlan had been referring.

“This here, where that tunnel ends. Kahlan thinks it looks like a pile of boulders, but I think it’s kind of shaped like this lake over here.” He drew his hand across the table, and the front of the Confessor, to indicate where on the map.

“How the Keeper am I supposed to know?” She glared at his hand, in lieu of being able to glare at his face. “I don’t draw the maps; I kill the thing they point me to.”

“Maybe you should send for the brunette one,” Richard tilted his head to face the Confessor. He was still standing way too close. “Berdine? You said she spends a lot of time at study, perhaps she will have some ideas.”

Cara thought his hopeful smile reeked of sucking up. Truth was he had done little to endear himself to her Sisters since his arrival. If Kahlan was busy with Berdine or Hally, he was with the soldiers. It was clear he still did not approve of this arrangement. Proposing they bring one of the Mord-Sith into this, was probably with the sole hope it would make Kahlan happy to see him trying. And since Berdine was likely going to be pulled in anyway, he wasn’t actually suggesting anything that wasn’t already inevitable. 

Cara should probably be ashamed at the joy she felt throwing a wrench into that plan. “It is Rikka you need,” she answered flatly before Kahlan could say anything. 

Kahlan looked up curiously. The hopeful smile fell off the Seekers face.

“I’ll go get her.” Cara stood up sporting a possibly slightly smug grin.

“How is she going to help?” Richard’s question probably came out a little more snappish than he wanted. 

“You can scribble some lines on a piece of parchment and with one look that woman can lead you through a Labyrinth.” Cara twirled her hand in the air. “She is like some sort of directional savant. Its rather annoying.” 

“But does she know anything about ancient maps?” He leaned forward again to drag his finger across the book, conveniently invading the Confessor’s space once more. “Right now, we are looking for a starting point. We already know the way through.”

At least this time Kahlan had the good sense to look uncomfortable and step back. “We could use any help we can get, Richard. And I have learned quickly not to underestimate anything these women might have to offer.”

“Of course, Kahlan.” The hopeful doting smile was back. 

Cara rolled her eyes and departed without another word. Galina was taking up residency on guard outside the tent. “Another fun filled morning with the Seeker?”

Cara grunted her response. “Have you seen Rikka?”

Galina’s lips contorted. “That bad huh?”

“No.” Though a round with Rikka sounded like a good idea now that she thought about it. Maybe later. “They are having troubles with a map.”

“Ah, well, she went off that way a while ago to bathe,” she gestured behind the tent. “Would you like me to send somebody for her?”

Cara shook her head. “I could use the walk.”

“So it is that bad.”

She couldn’t decide whether to scowl or roll her eyes, so she just pushed on into the trees. 

They had been following the same pattern for the past week. Sending out pairs of scouts regularly to ride ahead of the group, then stopping every three days to rest, giving those scouts more time to get a good advanced look at the route ahead. If they did not find anything significant, they would wait at a predetermined point for the rest of the procession to catch up. So far, nobody had to come back early.

These days of inertia were the hardest for Cara. Other than hunting, there was little for her to do but be consumed by her useless circle of thoughts and watch Richard follow Kahlan around like a lost puppy.

Kahlan had said she was going to talk to Richard, but by the way his ever-hopeful gaze followed the her everywhere, that talk had yet to take place. Maybe she was hesitant to crush his heart. She obviously would be reluctant to hurt him. Or maybe she was worried about how the Seeker would perform _after_ his heart was crushed. Stopping Rahl was the only priority, after all. Or maybe having spent so long apart from Richard had reminded Kahlan what she had seen in him in the first place. 

Her hand grazed an Agiel.

Rikka was laying nude on the grass beside the stream, drying in the sun. She didn’t turn her head as Cara approached, but that didn’t mean her taller Sister was unaware of that approach. To the untrained eye she appeared obliviously dozing. But one wrong step and most would find themselves unceremoniously on their back with an Agiel to their throat, or taking an unplanned bath face first in the stream.

Of course, Cara was not most people, which is why she stalked over and nudged Rikka’s arm with her boot. “Get up, you are needed.”

Rikka opened one eye with a smirk. “You need me to fight somebody for you?”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Sorry. The Underworld did not freeze over. And I said you were needed, not that _I_ needed you.” She shoved Rikka with her foot once more for good measure. “Let’s go.”

The blonde pulled herself to a sit, rolling her eyes right back at Cara. “So, you have worked yourself all the way up to messenger.” She began pulling her leathers back on. “I will be quick then. We would not want you whipped and sent back to the kitchens.”

Cara huffed and dropped herself to the ground while Rikka dressed.

“I thought we were in a hurry?”

She picked at a blade of grass and tossed it into the stream. “What else do we have to do today?”

“We could fight,” her Sister offered as she pulled on her boots.

That pulled a quick grin from Cara. “Later. The Mother Confessor is having trouble with some map, and I told her you might be able to help.”

“So, you have finally admitted I am stronger than you.”

“Being better at one thing does not make you stronger. It makes you not completely useless.”

“No, but being better at everything does.” Rikka finished adjusting her belt and looked over. “What are we sitting here for?”

“It is a nice day.”

Rikka looked at her skeptically. “Need a break from the Seeker, huh? I am seriously starting to wonder how you managed to save the world so many times.”

“Richard is not so bad if you can keep him focused,” she found herself defending. “He still carries an idealistic vision of the world where everything can be fixed if you just try hard enough.”

“Except us, apparently.”

“I don’t know. When every other person in existence wanted me dead, he gave me a place.” Cara threw another piece of broken grass into the stream and watched it float away. She pushed back as the guilt crept up once more. “I think he is just overwhelmed with how fast the changes are coming. He had a very specific vision of how his life was going to go after we sealed the rift. As that has slipped away, he has become even more… _Richard,_ ” she settled on for lack of a better word.

“Well, regardless, you made the right decision bonding us to the Confessor. He would not have made a strong Lord, and we probably would have all ended up back as Darken Rahl’s pets, or worse.”

“I wish I could take credit, but that is not exactly how it went,” Cara admitted. “It was long past obvious Richard was never going to claim his birthright, so I sought the Wizard’s help to break the bond. The spell was only supposed to work on me.” She looked up in earnest, “not because I did not wish you all free, but because the nature and rarity of the spell did not make it possible. It wasn’t until we reached the People’s Palace that we realized it had a broader effect. And It was Kahlan’s decision to offer you all the bond. I would not have asked that of her.” Cara smirked over at her Sister. “In fact, had I known you would probably all be bonded to me today instead of the Confessor.”

“Creator help us,” Rikka blanched, then glanced over curiously. “Why didn’t you, you know.” She waved her hand up and down at Cara.

“Because I am Mord-Sith and I was made to serve.” It was the truth, even if it wasn’t all of it. “And the Mother Confessor is worthy of that service.”

Rikka didn’t argue either point. “I still thank you.”

Cara craned her neck sideways in shock. 

“What? You have admitted I am stronger than you, I can at least say thank you for doing this one useful thing in your life. Even if it was an accident.”

“I said _no_ such thing.”

“Fine,” Rikka rolled her eyes. “I will not tell anyone you confessed your weakness, if you do not mention I said you did something good.” She pushed herself to her feet. “Now let’s go help your Confessor so we can get to kicking the crap out of each other.”

They strolled back into the tent a little while later, to find the Seeker and Mother Confessor pretty much where she left them, standing side by side, hovering over the map.

“Thanks for coming Rikka,” the Confessor greeted with a smile. Richard just nodded with a flat face.

Much to Cara’s amusement, Rikka strode over and pushed herself between Kahlan and Richard, finishing with an exaggerated bend of inspection over the materials on the table. “What am I looking at?”

“This is supposed to be a map of the catacombs under the Pillars of Creation,” Kahlan explained. “We are trying to find a back door in, but as you can see, there is not much to go by.”

“I think these dark markings here indicate a lake,” Richard quickly added. 

Rikka eyed him a moment but then looked back at the Confessor to ask her question. “How old is this map?”

Kahlan shook her head, “maybe thousands of years. It’s hard to say.”

“Then geographical markers might not help you much. The landscape could have changed a lot in that time.”

“But don’t you think it looks like this lake over here?” Richard asked.

Rikka only returned her gaze to Zedd’s sketch. “Your biggest problem is there is nothing to indicate scale,” she stated, inspecting the drawing closely. “The entire structure could be as small as a barn, or go on for leagues. If you could figure out how large it is, you could simply lay it over the current map, and get at least a general idea of where these tunnels end.”

The Seeker looked incredulous. “And how do you suggest we find the scale of a place we have never been, without actually going there?”

“Right here.” She tapped a square room just off the centre of the map with a series of long corridors leading to it.

“How does a single room help us? It has no dimensions. I think we should really focus on what these marks are at the exit points.”

Cara watched as Rikka cracked her neck. If Richard didn’t watch his tone, he might be introduced to _Mistress_ Rikka. Instead, the blonde dug around on the table until she found a piece of charcoal. “We are the magic against magic,” she said as she began scribbling over Zedd’s drawing. “Who do you think Rahl sent into every shrine or a temple to retrieve his little magically protected trinkets?” She finally stood up straight, dropped the charcoal pencil and brushed off her hands. She looked at Cara. “So, you ready to go?”

Rikka had drawn a circle both around the room, touching each corner of the square, as well as inside it, touching each wall. In the middle of it all, an eight-sided star whose points lined up with the corridors leading from the room.

“A Grace?” Kahlan breathed.

“I swear the ancients only had one architect,” Rikka muttered. “There is always some room or open rotunda shaped like one of these, to enhance their magic, or protect their magical whatevers. I would bet all my coin that is where Rahl will complete his spell.”

Richard shook his head, “yes, but how does that help us find an entrance?”

“Because,” Kahlan answered. “Graces are subject to magical laws, and this one appears to be built right into the ground. They probably built the entire structure over it. Between Berdine’s knowledge of how the spell works, and Zedd’s greater knowledge of magic, we might be able to figure out its dimensions, and then infer that on the rest of the compound.”

“Oh, well that’s good then,” the Seeker perked up. “We should write Zedd right away.”

“Thank you Rikka,” the Confessor smiled. “I will go get Berdine.”

“She went for a walk after lunch,” Cara informed.

“I don’t mind going to find her,” Kahlan stretched with a smile as she spoke. “I have been hunched over this table all day; I could use a walk myself.”

“With Raina.”

She enjoyed the creeping blush across the Confessors face as she smoothly lowered herself into a chair. “Maybe I will wait.” Her blue eyes briefly flickered to Cara’s, and Cara would have given both her Agiels to know what thought had just forced an even deeper shade of red onto Kahlan’s cheeks. 

“Good choice Mother Confessor,” Rikka laughed. “I am going to take a round out of Cara now, if you are looking for some entertainment to pass the time.”

Cara didn’t dignify that with a response.

“ _Again_?” Kahlan asked.

Now Cara scowled. Though she fought to maintain it against the Confessor’s teasing grin.

“You can join us if you wish Seeker.”

She tore her gaze from Kahlan to take in Richard’s response to Rikka’s invitation. He coughed and straightened and maybe looked a little pale. “I ah, thank you, but I really should focus on finding a way into the catacombs.”

“Of course.” Rikka levelled him a knowing smirk. “If you change your mind, just follow the sound of Mistress Cara’s screams.”

Cara shook her head and followed Rikka from the tent. 

\------------

It had all been moving too smoothly. Only a couple weeks ride now to the Pillars, less if they rode more purposefully. The next moon was in a little more than a fortnight, but time was still in their favour. Really the only surprising thing was that it took so long to encounter a problem. Or more literally, a road block. But here were Vale and Hannah, riding in as they were breaking camp, instead of waiting ahead on the path for the group to catch up. 

Cara stood beside Kahlan, as the two rode right up to her tent and dismounted. 

Vale greeted them with a slight bow of the head. “Good morning Mother Confessor, I fear we have brought bad news. Though I don’t believe it is anything we can’t manage.”

“I suppose we were due,” Kahlan sighed out. “What is it?”

Vale flipped her head to toss her braid back over her shoulder. “The Dragon Corp have set up a blockade where the mountain passes pull together along the river, about a day and a half south of here.” 

Kahlan let out another sigh. She waved at Captain Meiffert who was already making his way across camp, and then at Berdine who was curiously watching from where she was packing up her tent. “Come in and show us.”

It didn’t take long for the six of them to be huddled around the small table in Kahlan’s tent, leaning over yet another map.

“We snuck in as close as we could during the night,” Vale explained. “Watched until midmorning, then started back. As far as we could tell there are about fifteen of them. They are set up here, next to a cliff face along the Kern.”

“They always have two out on patrol on foot, but by how frequently they change shifts, they don’t travel far,” Hannah added. 

“Is there a way around?” Kahlan asked the Captain. 

He shook his head, “no. The terrain is quite steep for a good hundred leagues away from the river. Too difficult for the horses, and would take too long to travel by foot. By the time it starts to even out, you are better off just continuing to the next highway south of Brennidon. Or we can back track several days to the nearest bridge. Though it might be watched too.”

“Its not worth the lost time,” Cara interjected. “Fifteen is nothing we can’t handle with a small group, if we plan it right.” 

Kahlan gave a nod of agreement. “What do you have in mind?”

Cara looked to her Sisters and held out a charcoal pencil. “Draw these cliffs for me.”

Hannah took the offering and flipped over the map, drawing a quick sketch of the steep hills, the road, the river, and the Dragon Corp’s camp. When she was done, Cara took the pencil and flipped the map back over. “How many men do you have that are truly competent with the bow, Captain?”

“They are all trained Mistress Cara, but I’d say Rutenburg and Green are above the others.”

“Good. I will take them, as well as Hannah, Galina, and Richard, and we will ride to the west here,” she pointed to a place several leagues away from the camp. “We will go on foot up into the hills and back track to the river. Those cliffs are not too steep to find purchase to shoot an arrow. We will flank them on the high-ground, and take them out before they even know we are there. Meanwhile,” she indicated just to the north of the Dragon Corp camp, “two of the Brennidon soldiers will take care of the patrol men, then wait here in case any Dragon Corp make a break for it.”

“What if they escape the other way?” Kahlan asked.

“Well then they probably get away. Which is why we are only sending eight of us. There is no need to risk exposing our true numbers for this. If anyone gets away, they will think us the Seeker making his expected push to stop Rahl with a couple extra hands.” Cara offered her best confident smirk, “but nobody will get away.”

Eventually her smirk fell away as Kahlan only stared at her intently. Did she not like the plan? Her brow furrowed. “Unless you have a better idea?”

“No, it’s a sound plan,” she said quietly.

“Mother Confessor the Seeker is here.” Nyda called into the tent.

“Let him in,” Berdine answered, garnering an eyeroll from Kahlan. 

Richard came in smiling but stopped up short at the crowded tent. “What’s going on? I’ve got your horse ready to go,” he added with a hesitant smile.

“Well put it back in the stable Rick, we’re staying put,” Berdine said as she passed behind the Seeker. “I will go let the others know we are not breaking camp today.” 

“Thank you Berdine,” Kahlan turned to Hannah and Vale. “Why don’t you two go get some rest and something to eat. Especially you Hannah, since you will be heading out again soon. And thank you both for riding so hard to get this information to us.”

“What happened?” Richard looked curiously at Kahlan as the two Mord-Sith dismissed themselves and followed Berdine out. “Why are we staying?”

“Actually Richard, you’re not staying.”

“What?” The Seeker looked almost distraught. “Why wouldn’t I stay? We are not splitting up again.”

“It will only be for a couple days Richard, but there is an issue which requires your skills with a bow.”

Cara left it to Kahlan and Captain Meiffert to explain the plan to the Seeker. They really hadn’t spoken much since Cara had blown up at him and stormed out of the tent. She was happy to avoid the impending talk for as long as it was necessary for Richard to completely forget the whole thing. She somehow missed the flaw in her plan that would make it hard to ride in the opposite direction when she saw Richard angling her way. 

She mentally huffed at the same time the Seeker let out an audible one. “I don’t like this Kahlan. We have numbers, why don’t we use them.”

“But they have the position,” Captain Meiffert answered instead. “They would be more likely to see us coming, put up a better fight, and more easily escape if we attempted to approach with our full force. We would not all be able to move into such a narrow strip of land at the same time. We would still be successful but likely suffer more casualties. The way Mistress Cara suggests we could find success without any, while putting a nice dent in Rahl’s numbers.”

Richard ran his hands through his hair in resignation. “I still don’t like it. 

“I don’t like it either Richard,” the Confessor sounded a little upset. If Cara had to sit through another sappy departure between her and the Seeker, she was going to toss herself _off_ those cliffs. “But it’s a good plan.”

A few more pacifying words, a good meal, and a couple marks later, and they were ready to get on the road. Cara had just finished tucking her pack and bow into her saddlebag when soft footsteps approached from behind.

When she turned around, the Confessor was waiting with a contemplative look. “Maybe I should come.”

She rolled her eyes. “Kahlan, have you seen yourself shoot? Maybe if our target was the river…”

“Hey,” Kahlan smacked her arm in insult. “I’m not _that_ bad.”

Cara made a noncommittal face then gestured back towards camp. “Besides, if you come, they will all follow, and it will ruin my plan.”

Kahlan nodded softly, giving up her weak protest. “It’s just,” her eyes fell away to the ground beneath Cara’s horse, “it’s been a long time since we were parted… I guess I have gotten used to having you at my side.”

“I know they are not me, Kahlan, but my Sisters will keep you protected.”

“That’s not…” Kahlan huffed a small laugh, but when she looked back up her eyes were glassy. “I’ll miss you.”

The air froze in Cara’s lungs as realization washed through her. “You are sad,” she breathed out in wonder.

“Well, I am not happy,” the Confessor answered with a sad smile. “I worry for you.”

Now Cara’s eyes fell to the ground. Kahlan was sad. Because _she_ was leaving. “Would…” She looked up from under her lashes with a roguish smirk. “Would you like me to leave an Agiel for you to weep on?”

That pulled the intended laugh from the Confessor. “No,” she bit her lip then reached forward to graze Cara’s hip, just above her holstered weapons. “I want these right here with you, keeping you safe for me.”

Cara swallowed hard and quickly trapped Kahlan’s hand in place before she could move it away. “It will take far more than a few idiots playing gatekeeper to take me down,” she assured.

“I know.” The Confessor’s thumb bent around to rub the back of her own. “I will see you in a couple days.” It sounded more like an order. She could only nod. Unable to tear her eyes away from Kahlan’s intent blue ones. 

It was the Confessor who broke the moment with a quick squeeze to Cara’s side, before she gently pushed away. She straightened, her eyes now travelling back over Cara’s shoulder. “Richard. You ready to go?”

The Mord-Sith glanced behind to find the Seeker moving in with his horse in toe. He frowned as he looked between them, then landed his gaze back on Kahlan. “Are you okay?”

“Of course. I was just saying goodbye to Cara.”

He didn’t look convinced. “I don’t like you being here without one of us. Maybe I should stay and Captain Meiffert can go in my place.”

Cara rolled her eyes and proceeded to mount her horse.

“I will be fine, Richard,” Kahlan answered. “You are far too skilled with a bow not to be apart of this.”

The Seeker let out a reluctant sigh and a nod. “I can’t believe we have to part again,” he said as he pulled her into a hug. “I will miss you.”

Kahlan hugged him back, but Cara noted, did not return the sentiment. “Richard when I see you again, we are overdue for a talk.”

“I know,” he answered far too happily.

But when Cara looked down at them, Kahlan was looking up at her.

Perhaps goodbyes were not the worst thing ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a good holiday. Lets see if I can pick up my pre-Christmas momentum again.  
> If you haven't seen it, I recently posted a one-shot holiday themed fic set in the potential future of this world. 
> 
> I can't remember if the Grace came up in the show, but it was used in the books a lot for magical related doings. Do a quick Sword of Truth Grace google search if you wish to see what it looks like. It is not super important, other than once again, I like to pull in real things from the story when I can.
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support. We are starting to get into the home stretch here, but still a few more chapters yet to go.
> 
> As always, any comments are appreciated!


	27. Chapter 27

Her mind kept trying to tell her she was only seeing what she wanted. But three leagues later, and Cara could still feel the ghost of Kahlan’s fingers dancing across her hip above her Agiels. Her hand pressing into her. Under her own. For the first time in her life, she cursed her gloves. She should burn them.

She was certain she did not imagine it. She had seen far too many of the Confessor’s sentimental goodbyes not to know exactly what she was looking at. But she was still having a hard time believing it was looking back _at_ _her_.

“Somebody is excited about the prospect of a fight.”

“What?” Cara’s eyes shot over to Galina, who was riding beside her.

“You have been smirking like an idiot since we left camp. Don’t get me wrong,” she flourished her hand in the air, “I am looking forward to some action too. But your gleeful anticipation is playing into a harmful Mord-Sith stereotype.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Right. That is why you practically sprinted to your horse when I told you, you’d get to shoot at some actual people.”

“Exactly. We can’t both be gleefully anticipating the violence, or its not a stereotype.” Galina gestured up and down at her, “and you are supposed to be our responsible leader now, so its your job to keep yourself in check.”

“I am no leader,” Cara frowned defensively.

“Right,” Hannah barked a laugh from her other side, then leaned forward to look across to Galina. “You should have seen our _not_ leader, _not_ tell the Lady Amnell exactly how we were going to take down these Dragon Corp, like it was a done deal, and receive _no_ argument in return.”

“I have travelled with the Mother Confessor a long time. She knows better than to dismiss my strategy.” 

“Exactly.”

Cara shook her head violently. “Kahlan is not the Lord Rahl. I do not hold some standing over you all just because we… she trusts me. There is no _favoured_ anymore.”

“Well, that’s a load of crap,” Galina grunted. Cara scowled at her, but she continued unbothered. “But that is not why the Sisters look to you Cara. You realize more than half the women here, came because of their respect for you.”

“Yes. I sure felt the respect when I was beaten and left in a ditch,” she muttered somewhat bitterly.

“Triana was a poison,” Galina insisted. “She rode your coattails as long as she could, then waited in the weeds for a chance to strike you down. She took advantage of some confused and weak-minded Sisters to seize the place she could never earn. How long that lasted, was a testament to why.”

“Had you returned to the People’s Palace, you would have found allies,” Hannah added.

A soundless laugh escape Cara. “Or I would have been strung up at the gates.”

“If that were true, do you really think we would all be here now?” Galina looked at her meaningfully. “You underestimate the years of trust and respect you built with your Sisters, Cara.”

She scowled at the back of her horse’s head. How the hell did they end up in _this_ conversation. “Shouldn’t you two be looking out for Dragon Corp or something?”

The two Mord-Sith rolled their eyes at each other. “Yes, _Mistress_ Cara,” Galina smirked.

“Definitely not leading,” Hannah mumbled back to her Sister as they urged their mounts away.

Creator. This was the kind of nonsense she expected sitting around a fire with the Mother Confessor, not on a road trip to assassinate a bunch of D’haran soldiers with her Sisters. Kahlan was obviously having a bad influence on them. Unwittingly, at the thought of Kahlan her hand drew back to brush against her hip. 

Maybe she should burn her shirt too.

“Are you injured?”

Only Cara’s training and self control kept her from jumping and visibly admitting to the Seeker that he managed to sneak up on her. She had to stop this day dreaming, lest she take an arrow and not get the chance to burn _any_ of her clothes.

She coughed then frowned. “What? No.”

“You sure? You have been grasping at your hip all afternoon.”

It was a good thing, like Confessors, Seekers could not read Mord-Sith. “Rikka knocked it when we sparred. It is nothing. My belt is just rubbing on it,” she added lamely.

Richard offered a crooked smile. “She is quite intense, isn’t she?”

“She takes her duty very seriously,” Cara defended, mentally noting her thanks Rikka wasn’t actually there to hear it. “There is nobody I would rather at my side in a fight.”

The Seeker nodded almost sadly.

Cara sighed. “That was not a knock on you Richard. I have fought along side her since my childhood, she is the most capable warrior I know.” She smirked, “next to me of course.”

“Of course.” Richards small smile fell into a frown again. “I want to apologize for the other day. I was really caught off guard, and it was a lot to take in.”

“It is fine Richard,” she offered quickly, praying to the Creator _and_ the Keeper, that he just took it and moved on. Naturally he did not.

“It’s just, last time I saw this many Mord-Sith we were fighting for our lives and…” he waved his hand up the trail to where Cara’s two Sisters were ambling along scanning the forest for threats. “Our history makes this hard to trust.” He shook his head, “I still don’t understand how this happened.”

“Kahlan did what she thought was best, and she was right.” It was all Cara had to say on the matter.

They rode silently for a few moments, then the Seeker glanced over to her again, then back to his horse for his question. “Why Kahlan?” he asked almost too quiet to hear. 

Cara sucked in a breath. Apparently, there was no avoiding this. “You did not wish the responsibility, Richard,” she tried to deflect.

“I know that Cara, and I’ve thought a lot about it, and I know I can’t fault you for your decision to unbound yourself from me.” This time he did look at her when he asked. “But why _Kahlan_? Why not to yourself?”

“I am Mord-Sith. I was created to serve.” She kept her eyes intently focused on the trail ahead of her.

“You just wanted something to serve? And you felt the need to bind yourself to it?” He gestured again at the Mord-Sith, “and then why not one of your Sisters you believe in so much.”

“Are you insinuating Kahlan is not a worthy leader?”

“Of course not, Cara, its just…”

“What do you want me to say Richard?” she huffed. “I did it on impulse.” It was a half-truth. “The decision had been weighing heavily on me, and after we fought, it just seemed like the logical thing to do.” She tightened her hands on her reins and wrestled the urge to gallop off. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

The Seeker eyed her heavily for a long moment. “Are… are you sure that’s it?” he asked hesitantly.

She finally turned a glare on him. This was hardly his business. “What else would it be?” 

Cara held his gaze until he finally broke eye contact.

“Nothing,” he answered. “I guess its just odd seeing a Mord-Sith wilfully binding herself to a Confessor.”

“Well, I have been dragged around the Midlands for a year now protecting her royal ass from walking into a sword. Maybe this way I can actually get paid.”

That drew a small laugh from the Seeker, then his face fell flat again. “So, will you be returning to Aydindril once we’ve stopped Rahl?”

Cara frowned again. Why wasn’t this conversation over? “I am in her service now; it only makes sense that I do so.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm _what_?”

He scratched his head as he glanced over at her again. “You are not worried about how difficult that will be?”

“I am hardly worried if I am not met with legions of fans. In fact, I prefer it. That means they will leave me alone.”

“I meant for Kahlan.”

Cara craned her neck towards the Seeker and scowled in way of requesting elaboration.

“She will finally be taking her seat at the head of the council,” Richard explained. “Returning with you,” he quickly waved his hand at Galina and Hannah when her scowl deepened, “all of you, is going to be a strain on her introduction as ruler of the Midlands. Mord-Sith in Aydindril will not be a popular move.”

Cara flexed her hands on her reins and turned her eyes forward again. “The Mother Confessor is a big girl, and can decide what stresses she can handle.”

“I know. Though I do worry about how it will sit with Dennee.” Cara didn’t have an answer for that. The Seeker didn’t seem to notice and huffed a little laugh. “Well, I will be glad to have another friend there with me, anyway.”

The blonde’s gaze darted back to Richard, who was smiling off at nothing in the distance. “You have decided to settle in Aydindril as well?” she hoped her voice was steadier than she felt.

“I have to.” His grinning face met hers. “It is where Kahlan will be, so its where I will be. I thought a lot about what you said. About how she needs someone to stand beside her and support her in her duty. And I can be that for her.”

Cara stared at him. She wanted to ask him what about his precious Westland. What about children and Shota’s vision. But mostly she wanted to swallow past this sudden dryness in her throat and get away from this conversation.

Besides, this was Kahlan’s conversation to have, not hers. And she knew too well she had no say in how it went.

She let the woods fall silent again. Comfortable with only the gentle prodding of hooved feet and the distant chirps of birds. But of course, Richard was the Seeker and could not stay quiet for long. “So, tell me about your love.”

Cara almost choked on her tongue. “ _What?”_ she croaked out.

“Captain Meiffert? I have spoken with him at length and he seems like a good man.”

She cleared her throat and readjusted in her saddle. “There is nothing between me and the Captain except a mutual respect and desire to see Rahl’s head on a spike.”

“Are you sure? He speaks very highly of you, and Kahlan said…”

“Kahlan was mistaken,” she cut off firmly, taking a brief moment to enjoy the memory of the Confessor’s gaze boring into her ‘love bruises.’ Her lip twitched into a smile at the sudden awareness that had been pure unadulterated _jealousy_ on Kahlan’s face.

“Cara. That smile.” Richard shook his head and laughed. “Are you sure that isn’t love?”

_Wouldn’t he like to know_. 

She balked a moment at the implications of her thought, then quickly banished it, followed by an eyeroll at herself. She wasn’t hiding from it. It was… obvious, after all. This was just not the time or place to be ruminating on such things. “He is a handsome man, Richard, I can think of plenty of uses for him. But love is not one of them.”

Richard paled a little. She swore the Seeker was more delicate than the Confessor sometimes. But it shut him up.

At least on that topic.

He let out another sigh. She didn’t ask. That didn’t stop him from offering. “Are you sure this is the best way to go about this? Perhaps we should bring a few more soldiers with us. More bows could only be better, right?”

It did not slip Cara’s notice that he suggested more soldiers, not more Mord-Sith. Ironic, considering the soldiers were the ones still attached to the bond Rahl was trying to reclaim. Though perhaps maybe that is why Richard preferred them. Technically, they were bonded to him. 

“More men on such steep terrain will not necessarily mean more success. We will have the high ground and if we keep the element of surprise, six bows should be more than enough to take out fifteen men. Thirteen if Axelson and Ferland handle the scouts.”

“I guess,” Richard agreed, somewhat sullenly.

“ _What_. Richard?”

“I just am not a fan of these guerrilla tactics. It feels a little underhanded. Like hitting somebody from behind.”

“That’s because we _are_ hitting them from behind,” Cara explained indulgently. “We are facing a force possibly more than three times our size. This blockade is a gift. We can put a dent in their divided force, and avoid taking any loss ourselves. War is not meant to be pretty, Richard. It is meant to be won.”

He didn’t respond, which Cara took as an acceptance of facts. A few moments later he quietly added, “I’ll admit, I also do not like the idea of leaving Kahlan behind.”

That was something Cara could not relate to. She had no doubts about the Confessor’s safety in her current location, and could fully focus on her task without worry. Of course, having Kahlan here would have its benefits. Even from a cliffside, she could probably have taken down two men with her blades in an aesthetically pleasing manner. Then perhaps afterwards indulge in this new habit she was developing for fondling Cara’s ribcage…

She shook herself out of her daydreams, _again_ , before she found herself agreeing with the Seeker. “I swear on my Agiels she will be safe, Richard.”

He nodded softly, at least appearing to take her at her word on that. He nodded up again towards Galina and Hannah. “That one Hannah, just came back from scouting, right? Are you sure it was the best choice to bring her out again? She must be tired.”

“Women are stronger than men, Richard, or have you still not realized this?”

The Seeker rolled his eyes at her. “How could I forget.”

“She and Vale would have taken turns watching the camp and taking rest. And she would have dismissed herself had she not been ready. Mord-Sith are proud but not foolish. Besides having seen what we are up against, she is a natural with the bow. We want her with us.”

“They don’t like me much, do they?”

Cara groaned inwardly at yet another pending talk of _feelings_. She didn’t really need to explain this to him, did she? “You are the Lord Rahl.”

“I am not.”

“Exactly. Richard, you rejected them.”

“I reject being the Lord Rahl.”

She _was_ going to have to explain this to him. “It is the same thing. You could have walked into D’hara and done the same thing as Kahlan. Offered them a better path. Offered _all_ of D’hara a better path. But you chose not too. You chose to leave them to whatever fate decided.”

“I did not choose to be a Rahl, Cara.”

“And we did not choose to be Mord-Sith, Richard!” She took a breath and ran her hands over her face. She did not wish to get in another fight with the Seeker. “Look. You do not want the throne. That is your decision. But just as the decision to lead comes with consequences, so does the decision not to.” She waved her hand up at her Sisters. “You can’t expect them to just fall in love with you the way every villager in the Midlands does when you wave your sword. Not when your decision _not_ to lead directly impacts them. And especially not after the way you came into camp.” She let out another sigh. “If you truly wish for them to respect you, I am sure they can in time, but you cannot force it. And you cannot do it hiding out with the D’haran soldiers.”

Mercifully, after that the Seeker fell into a contemplative silence. It had been a long time since she had travelled with Richard without Kahlan or Zedd as a buffer. She forgot how much he liked to talk. Especially when all the world was not in harmony. 

Finally, with only the sounds of the forest penetrating the day, her thoughts drifted back to the Confessor’s farewell.

\------------------

They reached the steep incline of the hills by the middle of the next day, picking a place a good two-mark ride from the river to make their ascent. They found a sheltered gully to tether the horses and left instructions to the Brennidon men, Axelson and Ferland, to wait until the Dragon Corp swapped their scouts at dawn before making their move. Then they were to take them out as quietly as possible, before finding a place to lie in wait just before the road narrowed along the cliffs.

The rest of them would spend the remainder of the day moving up into the hills. Making the difficult hike through the steep terrain, to the ridge over the Dragon Corp camp. The footing was tricky at times, and the going slow, but fortunately the skies were clear and the sun was still lasting well into the evening. They set camp about a half mark hike from the edge of the cliff, then Richard, Cara and Hannah went to scout out their situation. 

As they approached, they wordlessly edged themselves on their bellies until they reached the point where the rocks began to drop off, and peaked over the edge. Hannah had been right. The idiots had set their shelter on the water side of the road, instead of up against the natural shelter of the cliff face. That desire to be twelve yards closer to a drink of water and sleep on a sandy bank was going to cost them all their lives. Training must be lacking these days in the Dragon Corp. 

The rockface dropped off fairly quickly, but there were enough ledges and outcroppings to give them an advantageous perch. The plan was to attack shortly after the detachment roused for the day. Men were always at their most lax after the sun rose, and the dangers of the night were behind them. It gave them a false sense of security. 

This would be over quickly. She nodded her head at her companions and they silently moved back from the edge. Not wanting to risk the light of the fire, or even the soft murmur of voices to carry over the cliff. It would be a long cool and quiet night. 

\---------

A half mark after sunrise, and the scouts swapped off, just as Hannah and Vale had reported. A half mark after that, the six of them slowly crept out onto the ridge to get into position. Meiffert’s men, Green and Rutenberg, took up position near where the narrowed roadway opened up into the forest, to take out the men standing sentry on the road.

Richard came next, crouching down on a narrow strip of rock, just down and to the left of Cara, who made sure to set herself up directly in the middle of camp in front of the tents. Galina and Hannah were a little further down to Cara’s right, up on the top of the ridge, at an angle that allowed them to target almost anywhere up and down the narrow strip of land.

The footing was a little precarious, with loose broken chunks of gravel scattered on top of a slick rocky surface. The hillside fractured and dropped off into deep cuts from the heavy runoff that would most definitely flow down from the mountains in the spring, and into the Kern below. But they didn’t need to fight from here. Just stand up and shoot a bow.

When Cara had eyes on ten of the apparent thirteen men that should be in the camp, she gave the signal. Half a dozen men fell, and she had another arrow knocked and flying off into the chest of a soldier sitting drinking his morning tea before the alarm was even raised. In only a few seconds every man in sight was either dead or incapacitated. 

One of the three remaining men ducked out of one of the tents, and she and Galina quickly loosed their bows in his direction. He dropped with a strangled cry. Then, there was a lot of waiting. After several long minutes of quiet, she waved over to the soldiers to start making their way down the hill. They and the Brennidon men could move in and search the tents, while the rest kept them covered from above.

That’s when out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of red and black armour. Right in time to see an arrow released in the direction of the unknowing Seeker. So, Cara did what she always does, and made the split-second decision to act. She launched herself down to where Richard was crouched looking in the opposite direction, knocking him to his stomach just as the arrow glanced across her shoulder. It stung, but that was not the problem.

The problem was her momentum. It carried her right over the Seeker, and off the narrow track of rock he had been perched upon. She managed to grip the edge a moment, briefly slowing her progress before she slipped down. 

It was not a smooth fall. But in the end that is probably what saved her. Instead of dropping straight down the twenty-yard fissure, she rolled and bounced off its jagged protrusions, grasping several times at the rocky walls, and finding purchase long enough to curb her descent. A few seconds later and she hit the ground on her back. She definitely wasn’t cursing her gloves anymore. 

“Cara! Are you alright!” 

She didn’t answer the Seeker right away. Still trying to orientate herself. Blinking in the dim light.

“Cara!”

“I’m fine,” she yelled back up, before muttering “probably,” much more quietly to herself. “Watch your back Richard! There are still two men out there.”

“One,” he called back. “Hannah got that last one.”

She slowly pushed herself to her feet, and immediately had to lean on the rockface for support as the world spun upside down. That is when she noticed the pain radiating from the back of her head. A brief inspection with her fingers indicated a nice sized lump that was bleeding ever so slightly. Once she was aware of that discomfort, various other contusions on her body made themselves known, including what was likely going to be a good size bruise along her left leg, some tender ribs, and of course the arrow graze across her shoulder blade. 

But that was for later. Now was for getting out of this Creator forsaken crevasse. With no witnesses, she continued to use the wall for support, but after only a few steps the opening narrowed to the point that only water, or maybe a small rodent, would be able to pass through. She worked her way back around the space, looking for a way to climb out. She leaned her head back and sighed. “There is no way out of here Richard, you are going to have to get a rope.”

“I’ll see what I can find.”

A few minutes later Galina’s head was peaking down from the ridge. “That was pretty smooth.”

Cara rolled her eyes, which resulted in another wave of dizziness. “Did you find the last soldier?”

“They found him cowering in one of the tents and have taken him prisoner. The Brennidon men took care of the scouts. The Seeker has now enlisted them all to look for your rope. Here.” She held out a waterskin before tossing it down to her.

Cara moved over to retrieve it and let herself slouch back down to sit against the rocks, drinking greedily after pulling the stopper clear. She could hear muffled yelling from outside. Galina was now standing up looking out towards the river. When her body language sagged, Cara already knew there would be no rope.

The Mord-Sith looked back down and confirmed it. 

Cara sighed. “Just set up a perimeter. The Mother Confessor should arrive sometime this afternoon. You can get me out then.”

Galina answered with a laugh. “Fine, as long as I don’t have to be the one to tell her we lost you dow…” Before she could finish her thought her attention was pulled away again. She looked back with a head roll. “The Seeker says he will take Ferland’s horse, ride back and retrieve one.”

Cara rolled her own head against the rocks. Richard was going to get himself lost or hurt trying to shave a mark off an unnecessarily rushed rescue effort. “Galina…”

“I’m way ahead of you.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Hannah come keep an eye on Cara. I have to go lead the Seeker back to the Mother Confessor.”

“I don’t need…” But Galina was gone. A few moments later Hannah appeared in her stead. “Hannah, I don’t need a babysitter. Go down and help the men watch the road.”

Her Sister looked at her hesitantly. “I don’t know Cara, did you hit your head? You probably shouldn’t be left alone.”

She did hit her head, but the last thing that was going to make it feel better was forced conversation for the next four marks. “I am fine Hannah. Go make sure those men don’t mess up our victory.” 

Hannah sighed, nodded, then disappeared. A couple minutes later a bedroll landed on top of Cara’s head. She rolled her eyes, but pulled it over herself none the less.

\--------------

Despite her efforts, at some point she must have fallen asleep, because she was suddenly brought awake by a thump on the canyon floor. She quickly grabbed an Agiel and aimed it at the intruding noise, but it was the Seeker’s smiling face that greeted her.

“Cara. I’m glad you’re okay.” He looked a little sweaty and had a thick rope tied around his waist that extended back up towards the top of the ridge. 

“Of course I’m okay,” she gruffed and jammed her Agiel back into its holster. “The only danger I am in is dying of boredom from sitting here all day.”

“Alright,” he grinned. “Let’s get you out of here.” He moved to untie the rope from his waist, but his hands faltered over the knot. “I mean, if that is what you want.”

“No, I wish to live in the hole, Richard.” She scowled at him. “Did you hit your head on your way down?”

“No,” he smiled at her as he straightened, now standing right over her. His face screwed up and he scratched the back of his head. “It’s just. Do you really think its for the best?”

“What?” she snapped as her eyes narrowed. She could admit she didn’t always _get_ the Seeker’s sense of humour, but this was truly beyond her. She tried to push herself to a stand, but was halted by a rush of dizziness.

“Think about it Cara.” He stared down at her seriously. “Think what this is going to do to Kahlan.”

Cara pinched the bridge of her nose. This was the furthest thing from amusing now. “I think Kahlan would also prefer me out of the hole, Richard. Give me the damn rope.”

“Maybe Kahlan doesn’t know what’s best for her,” he said sternly. “Do you know how much trouble its going to bring down on her if she mates herself to a Mord-Sith?”

“ _What_?” It was the only word she could force out as the air evaporated from her lungs.

“Think about it. The Central Council will lose their minds. Her leadership and her integrity will be put into doubt. It could threaten the very alliance of the Midlands.”

Cara could only stare at him in disbelief as his eyes turned sad. “And what kind of toll is it going to take on her when this,” he vaguely gestured at her, “destroys her relationship with her sister.”

She curled her hand into a fist to keep herself from pulling an Agiel. “ _This_ is none of your business Richard,” she warned coolly.

“Of course it is,” the Seeker admonished. “I can give her the things you can’t. A marriage to the Seeker will strengthen the Midlands. And I can give her the family you never can.” He was almost condescending now. “She has a _duty_ , Cara. Would you let her demean herself to fulfil it? Could you really stand by and watch her lay with another?”

She swallowed hard; her voice came out hoarse. “I can do whatever it is Kahlan needs of me.”

He leaned down so his face was right in front of hers. “Maybe what Kahlan needs is for you to disappear.”

At that she lunged herself forward. But instead of jostling into the Seeker, she jostled herself awake. Sweat was trickling down her brow and her breathing was heavy. As she pushed her hands into her face to gain her bearings, a thick rope dropped down next to her head.

“Cara, tie yourself on and we’ll get you the hell out of there.” It was Galina yelling down at her. 

As she rose to her feet, she felt shaky for reasons that had nothing to do with her injuries. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought I would ever do the realistic bad dream trope, but here we are. What are you gonna do?
> 
> Happy New Year everyone! Here is hoping for a brighter 2021 all the way around!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: brief mention of thoughts of self-harm… or really more like self-sacrifice. And also, some allusions to the dubious-at-best consent of Rahl’s relationships with the Mord-Sith. Like before, I don’t think its anything too difficult, but I’d rather make mention just in case somebody is particularly sensitive to it.
> 
> Yes you get another Chapter already. This is sorta still the last chapter, since we are now going to go back and see what Kahlan was up to during this same time.

Kahlan stepped out of the tent and into the afternoon sun with a stretch. After spending the past couple marks feeling like one of those exotic birds that are trained to repeat everything you say, passing messages between Zedd and Berdine, she had finally given up and handed the Mord-Sith the damned journey book. 

She wanted to help. Because it was important, but also to keep her mind occupied and off of what dangers Cara might be about to walk into. But truthfully, she was offering nothing to the process. And really it was doing nothing to curtail her thoughts.

They would all return to the trail by mid-day tomorrow. The departure timed to reached the Dragon Corp blockade by the end of the next afternoon, well after it had been taken out. Cara had hardly left a few marks earlier, and was nowhere near danger yet. But Kahlan could think on nothing else.

She absentmindedly rubbed the back of her hand. The hand Cara had trapped to her body as they were saying goodbye. 

She wondered if Cara would be opposed to losing her gloves.

She realized she was grinning when she caught Nyda looking at her curiously. “It’s a nice day,” she said feebly. 

“Indeed, Mother Confessor,” she replied with a small smile of her own.

Kahlan sometimes wondered if bonding herself to these women had given them a direct line to her thoughts. Logically she knew it didn’t. But they certainly had a way of making her feel transparent. She shook off the feeling and started towards a small fire in the middle of camp where a pot of water had been kept on. She also tried to shake off the triumphant feeling of finally making progress with Cara.

She was not supposed to _be_ making progress with Cara. She was supposed to be keeping Cara at a safe distance until she could find a way around one very large and dangerous impediment to actually _having_ Cara. She had slipped up, and she knew it. But with the look Cara had given her, a raw mixture of wonder and relief and happiness, she was having trouble caring. 

She bent down to the small crate beside the fire to pull out a mug and crushed some tea leaves into it, before setting it out on a flat stone to add the water. While she waited for it to steep, she surveyed the camp. It seemed emptier. Probably because it was. Cara would often spend part of the day off hunting with Galina and Hannah, but she never felt far. 

Vale was sitting by the horses, tending to a pair of leathers. Since travelling with the Mord-Sith, she had learned most kept a spare set for when their primary uniform was in need of cleaning or repair.

She supposed that made sense. The reason Cara didn’t have a spare was likely due to her abrupt departure from her Temple. She wondered if she should enquire to Berdine how to go about finding an extra. Although, on second thought, that would deprive her of getting to watch Cara dawn her far too short shift when she tended to her leathers.

Kahlan blushed at herself and shook off the visual. Her eyes fell on Hania and Laurin who appeared to be having a disagreement over by the cart they used to haul their supplies. She was coming to the realization those two were never going to warm up to her, and had no doubt the moment Rahl was taken care of, they would sever their alliance with her and strike out on their own. She couldn’t help worry slightly what they might get up too, but she made her promise and would stick by it. 

As she picked up her tea, her gaze found Raina sitting by herself under a tree. She appeared to be trying to entice a chipmunk to feed out of her bare hand. Kahlan could feel the smile pulling tightly at her cheeks. Any small lingering doubt she might carry about the decision to connect to these women flew out of her for good.

How there was still so much innocence in these women who had been bent and abused for so long, was beyond her. But it was beautiful to watch. She wished she could capture this moment to wave in the face of the endless doubters and critics she would unavoidably endure when they returned to Aydindril. 

Kahlan quickly prepped another cup of tea then made her way over to where the dark haired Mord-Sith was sitting. She waited patiently a short distance away, as the skittish little animal crept up beside Raina and sniffed her hand. It darted back, then forward again, quickly snatching up some offered seeds, then burst away and up the trunk of a nearby tree. 

The bright smile on the Mord-Sith’s face as she looked up at her, filled the Confessor’s chest with warmth. 

“Mother Confessor,” she greeted and started to push herself to stand.

“No, please sit.” She stepped forward and held out a mug. “Tea?”

“Thank you.” Raina took the mug and waved her hand in offer for Kahlan to join her. 

Kahlan sat down perpendicular to her in the grass. “I am sorry I have been taking up so much of Berdine’s time since you arrived.”

“Please,” Raina scoffed with a quiet laugh. “Whatever you require from either of us, we are more than happy to give. Besides, I would never dream of coming between Berdine and her books. She is still at it, I assume?”

“Yes,” Kahlan replied with a small smile. “I thought it best I get out of her and the First Wizard’s way. But don’t worry. Captain Meiffert and I both donated to the cause, so there is no danger of her passing out from blood loss when the two of them fill up the journey book.”

The Mord-Sith laughed, “well if she does fall and hit her head, I could always revive her with the breath of life.”

Kahlan laughed too, then fell serious as she took a sip of tea. “I also wanted to apologize again for how I welcomed you into camp. The chance to pay Berdine back got the best of me and I did not fully think through how uncomfortable it might make you.”

“Again, you have nothing to apologize for, Mother Confessor. I will be honest,” her dark eyes were soft, “I only half trusted what Hally had told me about you. When I arrived, I was prepared for whatever met me.”

“But you came anyway?”

Raina took a drink then levelled her a serious gaze. “Even if you had done exactly as Darken Rahl, or worse, it still would have been a better fate than what I was living.” Her eyes fell on the tent currently housing her mate. “Besides,” the Mord-Sith’s smile returned to her, “that hardly would have been worse.”

Kahlan felt her face flush, and Raina quickly waved a hand. “Now _I_ am sorry. When we were separated, I took to thinking how Berdine would respond to conversation as a form of comfort,” she grimaced a smile. “I fear it has become habit and sometimes the words slip out.”

Kahlan smiled. “It’s odd not getting ‘Mord-Sith do not love’ thrown in my face when feelings are brought up.”

Raina raised a brow meaningfully. “I think you well know that is not true.”

She took a long sip of tea to try and hide her blush. “If you don’t mind me asking,” she hesitantly waved between Raina and the tent. “How did this ever happen?” 

“Slowly,” Raina laughed. “I don’t even know sometimes.”

Kahlan noted how the Mord-Sith’s entire body seemed to light up. Even her near-black eyes seemed brighter.

“I spent most of my early years as a Sister stationed at various Temples,” she explained. “But in my twentieth summer, I was finally ordered to the People’s Palace. Every Sister knew _of_ Berdine, and our paths had most certainly crossed during training in our youth, but I hadn’t ever really met her before. Because of her role, she hardly ever left the capital.”

Kahlan was content not to interrupt, and enjoyed her tea while the usually quiet woman went on with her tale. 

“As you have probably noticed, I do not look like my Sisters.” The Mord-Sith stretched a bit with a smile. “I was used to receiving curious looks when I arrive at a new station, but when I got to the Palace, there was one Sister in particular that _kept_ looking.”

“Berdine,” Kahlan answered the obvious with a grin.

Raina nodded. “Attracting the attention of another Sister wasn’t necessarily a good thing, so I made some inquiries as to who she was, and started watching back.” She looked wistfully off into the distance as if reliving the moment. “She would just sit. For marks on end, in the Garden of Life _reading_. Looking completely at peace.” Raina’s wonder-filled eyes returned to the Confessor. “I had never seen anything like it in a Mord-Sith before and became completely fascinated. Of course, eventually Berdine noticed _my_ looking and confronted me.”

“What did you do?”

Raina finished her tea with a laugh. “What any Mord-Sith would do. I insulted her and asked what could possibly be so interesting that she would allow her skills to lapse and risk her position.”

Kahlan’s cheeks were starting to hurt from the smiling. “What did _she_ do?”

“She _told_ me.” The raven-haired warrior shook her head, “For the next two marks, she went on and on about some tribe in the Wilds that would use magic to connect their spirits to deer, like it was the most important piece of knowledge the world has ever known. And by the time she was done, so was I.” She shook her head again. “I knew I should have gone straight to have this weakness trained out of me. But I couldn’t do it. I felt like those fools who frequent the opium dens. Eventually I knew it would kill me, but I didn’t care. I needed more.”

“Did Berdine feel the same?”

  
“Apparently, but it would be a while before I would know it, and even longer to truly believe it. Berdine had more reason than most to tread carefully. For such a young Mord-Sith to be so highly favoured by the Lord Rahl was rare, and it was a cause of jealousy for many. There were many Sisters who would want to either use her, or embarrass her for their own gain.” Raina grinned sheepishly, “I should probably be ashamed to say I used that as my in.”

Kahlan polished off her own tea, placed the empty mug in the grass, then readjusted to lean back on her arms.

“I am not sure what Cara has told you about her and Berdine’s past…”

“The desert?”

Raina smiled brightly with a nod. “Well after that they grew close, and by close I mean if anybody ever tried anything with Berdine, Cara would beat the living crap out of them.” 

“Sounds like Cara.”

“Yes. But Cara was gaining favour of her own, and her skills were taking her away from the Palace more and more frequently. So, I not so gently suggested to Berdine if she didn’t want to get an Agiel in the back, she might want to brush up on her fighting skills.” Raina bobbed her head side to side, “and of course offered to help her with that.”

Kahlan laughed, “fighting is truly the answer to everything for a Mord-Sith, isn’t it?”

“You don’t mess with the classics, Mother Confessor,” she grinned. “Naturally she demanded to know what was in it for me, and I couldn’t very well say _being close to you,_ so I said information. She could share with me what projects Rahl had her working on, and I would help her train without worry of her skills being judged or exploited.”

“I guess it worked?”

“She actually stormed off without a word. I didn’t see her for three days before she came back and accepted. Years later she admitted she was angry that my only interest was to use her for Rahl’s favour. Ironic since that is the last thing I wanted.” She shook her head slowly, “many Sisters are content just to serve and stay out of the Lord Rahl’s gaze.” Her lips turned down a moment. “But one way or another, you get it anyway.”

“So how did you finally break through to her?” Kahlan asked, wanting to push Raina past her dark thoughts.

“For weeks I gave all of my spare time to her, either sparring or listening to her speak about any topic she felt the urge to ramble about.” Raina bit her lip. “One day she was going on about infusing clouds with magical properties. Spirits I’ve never met a Mord-Sith so obsessed with magic. I was so close to her, and I couldn’t stop looking at her mouth. Before I realized what I was doing, I grabbed her by the neck and kissed her.”

The Confessor noticed a slight blush dotted the Mord-Sith’s cheeks.

“She didn’t respond,” Raina huffed a laugh. “And for a minute I thought I was going to get decked. But then…” she trailed off with a shrug and a telling smirk.

“That’s very sweet,” Kahlan commented, only half surprised now that she didn’t get a scowl as a response.

“Alas, it was not smooth sailing from there,” the Mord-Sith went on. “When I woke the next morning, she was long gone from my chambers. And she successfully avoided me for almost a month, before I got sick of it and broke into the Library to corner her.”

“You managed to break into the Library at the People’s Palace?”

“I was highly motivated,” she grinned. “It was good times. I accused her of some things, she accused me of some things, it almost came to blows, then she was storming away from me again.” Raina paused a moment, suddenly looking very intent. “Then something in me snapped. I begged her to stop. Confessed how completely intoxicated I was with her. In the moment I felt so weak, but looking back it was the strongest thing I ever did.” The soft smile was back, “she still didn’t fully believe me, but I was sure she wanted too. And I knew if I could just be patient, she one day would.” Raina’s smile morphed into a smirk. “Of course, her doubts did not stop us from rearranging the stacks.”

Kahlan coughed and blushed again. “It must have been extremely difficult; your love must be strong to have survived what it did.”

“We actually got away with it for quite a long time. Many Mord-Sith carry on physical relationships with each other for a variety of reasons. As long as I was acting a protector to Berdine’s position, which I was more than happy to do, it wasn’t questioned that I might receive certain benefits in return.” Raina rolled her eyes. “Except Cara, who spotted it almost immediately, and I think had it out with Berdine more than a few times over the consequences she would face if we were caught.” Her dark eyes turned on Kahlan fondly, “I was exceedingly jealous of Cara for the longest time.”

Kahlan couldn’t halt her questioning frown before it formed, and Raina barked out a laugh.

“No, they have never been intimate. But they had this easy trust between them that took years for me to painstakingly build with Berdine, even though she loved me. Cara could stroll into the Palace after being away for half a year, and it was like no time had passed between them. Never a question or doubt.” Raina eyed the Confessor again, “that was a very rare thing before you came along. But eventually,” she went on, “Cara did what she always does, and wins you over with her actions. I had just returned from a long assignment on the Azrith and Berdine was waiting for me in the Garden. I didn’t make it fives steps though, before Rahl was in my path. I had caught his eye, and he wished me for the night.”

The Confessor felt her stomach roil.

“Of course, I could not refuse him. But before he could even put a finger on me, Cara appeared between us and diverted his interests.”

Her stomach lurched again knowing exactly what _diverting_ those interests would entail. She was going to rip out Rahl’s throat with her bare hands.

“I know she did it for Berdine, not me. And its not like neither of us had been chosen before, or wouldn’t be again.” Raina let out a sigh, “in fact it wasn’t long after that, Rahl was clued in, and we were discovered. But Cara saw an opportunity to help her friend, even if it was for only this one small moment, and she took it. I was never jealous of her again after that. Only grateful Berdine had somebody else who cared about her so.”

Kahlan was overwhelmed with an abrupt need to just be _with_ Cara. To be near her. Maybe touch her. Maybe pull off her gloves and hold her hand. “After you were caught,” she asked quietly, “did you ever regret it?”

“Not even for a second. For myself,” she added after a moment of hesitancy. “We were lucky we weren’t killed for our transgression, but watching what Rahl put her through, it didn’t always feel like luck. At times I thought about abandoning the Sisterhood, or doing something to anger Lord Rahl enough to end me. Just in the hope that it would lessen her punishment. But as Berdine once so scathingly informed me, it was not my place to decide what she could endure, any more than it was her place to decide that for me.” Raina smirked, “she really can be an annoying know-it-all pain in the ass.”

Kahlan smiled at that, then Raina nodded her head for her to look behind, wearing a bright smile of her own. The chipmunk was back. Up on his hind legs, sniffing curiously at the air.

\---------------

It had been an extremely hot day, and despite only travelling for half of it, Kahlan was exhausted. She had a brief, but encouraging session with Hally. She could hold and feel the connection with her for minutes at a time now, though she had still been hesitant to actually _try_ anything with it. Then she went straight to bed. Tomorrow would be a full and anxious day, knowing Cara was planning on making her move after dawn, then having to ride all day before learning the outcome. 

Her logical mind said it was a solid plan, with a very high likelihood of success. But then another voice in her head would remind her of the time a soldier got in a lucky swing and Cara had ended up as a baneling. 

Nothing was ever certain. 

It was her second night without Cara by her side, and considering the blonde rarely came to bed until she was already asleep, and was _always_ up and about before Kahlan woke, she was surprised at how much she noticed the lack of the Mord-Sith’s steady presence while she slept. 

There was no getting around the fact that she missed her.

She finally fell asleep with her arm extended across to Cara’s side of the bed, praying to the Good Spirits to keep her safe. 

The muggy heat caused her sleep to be heavy, and in the very early hours in the morning she came awake to a small thump. In her haze, she recognized a figure hovering above her. _Cara_? No, that wasn’t right. She jerked up quickly, pulling her dagger with her from under the pillow. The leathered blonde took a step back, holding her hands apart in submission.

“Hania,” Kahlan growled. “You have about two seconds to convince me I shouldn’t put my blade through your chest.”

Shadowed eyes only looked down. She gave a little shove with her foot into a heap on the ground.

“Laurin?”

Seconds later her tent was full of Mord-Sith, and a few moments after that, the entire camp was awake and gathered outside around a fire. It was extremely early, and dark, with the light of the sun only just beginning to tease in the far east.

Kahlan ran her hands over her face, still trying to catch up with what had happened. Laurin was now bound by the hands and feet, leaning against a stump and tossing angry glares alternately between the Confessor and Hania. Hania was still standing, unbound, but with a very angry looking Rikka and Hally only an Agiel’s length from ending her. 

Near as she could tell, Laurin had knocked out Amber, who had been keeping watch on the back side of her tent, then cut the fabric to gain access and well, try to kill her. Then Hania, of all people, had stopped her. 

She levelled a stern gaze at Hania. “Explain.”

The blonde cracked her neck and stood proudly and without fear. “It is no secret being bonded to you is not something I enjoy.”

“Then why don’t you crawl back to Rahl on your knees,” Berdine spat from beside her. These women had reached a whole knew level of terrifying, and it was on her behalf.

Hania ignored her. “And Laurin knew it. She came to me shortly after we all bonded to you in hopes of finding an ally.”

“An ally for what?” Kahlan asked.

“Restoring us to Darken Rahl,” Hania sneered. “But she miscalculated, because the only thing I hate more than this arrangement,” she gestured between herself and the Confessor, “was that one.”

Raina, on her other side, turned her dark gaze on the blonde. “If you were so against this plot then why did you not bring it forward?”

“Because,” she snapped. “I wanted to make sure there were no others who would work with her, and if there was, they had time to expose themselves. I thought I had more time. She was to wait until we were close enough to the Pillars to contact Rahl, but when Cara left, she decided she couldn’t pass up the chance to act.”

“You should kill them both to be safe, Mother Confessor,” Rikka insisted with a shove to Hania’s shoulder.

Hania glared back at her Sister. “If I wanted her dead, why would I have stopped Laurin?” Her icy gaze returned to Kahlan. “All I want is my freedom, and though I do not know if I will get it with you, I know I never will with Rahl.”

“I offered you your freedom the day you gave your oath. You could have walked away.”

“And if you die trying to stop Rahl? What happens to this bond then,” Hania asked viciously. “I need to see this through.”

Kahlan blinked and glanced over at Berdine. That was not something she had really thought about. But now was not the moment to reflect on it. Now was the moment for wishing she could read Mord-Sith. Her eyes passed from Hania to Laurin. “Was anybody else working with you?”

Naturally, she received only a dirty look in response.

“You should confess her.”

Kahlan’s gaze flashed back over to Hania, in shock at the suggestion.

“She will never speak otherwise.”

Berdine let out a long breath. “She is right.”

The Confessor’s disbelief turned on the brunette. “You know what that will do to her.”

“It is no less than she deserves Mother Confessor,” Rikka assured. “She broke her oath, and betrayed her Sisters. She has lost her right to an honourable death.”

“You betrayed your Sisters and your Lord!” Laurin screeched before falling defiantly silent once more. 

The thought of sentencing one of the Mord-Sith to that fate and making them all watch made Kahlan’s stomach turn. So much so she found herself asking, “wouldn’t it be better if one of you got the information out of her?”

Hally looked at her sympathetically. “Our training makes it very hard to break us, Mother Confessor. Though we are broken, it is not in the same way.”

“When we break a man,” Raina continued, “it is quick and efficient. The only goal is to get what we need out of them, and if we break their minds or bodies in the process, it does not matter. When a Mord-Sith is broken, it is done very methodically. Slowly, over years, building on the pain. We are broken to serve, but with our minds and bodies still in tact. It could take weeks or months to break a Mord-Sith.” 

Kahlan’s stomach turned over again for a whole other reason. But she forced that back. Duty came first right now. She nodded firmly. “Get her to her feet.”

Nyda quickly cut the tie at Laurin’s feet and hauled her up. Laurin tried to maintain her defiant gaze, but despite their ability to hide their emotions from Confessor’s, the fear shone brightly in her eyes.

“None of you have to watch this,” she glanced around at the Mord-Sith. No one moved. 

She reached out and firmly grasped her fingers around Laurin’s neck, just above the guard, then eyed Nyda to make sure she was clear. One last breath and she let go of her power. Felt it surge into the Mord-Sith. Watched as the free-will was obliterated from the blue eyes staring back at her. Then the storm passed with the usual appellation. “Command me, Confessor.”

“You tried to kill me.” It was more a statement than a question but that didn’t stop the confessed Mord-Sith from answering.

“Yes, Mistress. I am so sorry,” she pleaded with the distress of upsetting her Mistress burning in her eyes. “Please, I beg you to forgive me.”

“Was anybody else working with you?”

“No, Mistress! I thought Hania, but no. She was loyal. Everyone was loyal.” Laurin frowned deeply, “I was so angry. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Knowing time was of the essence, Kahlan had her next question at the ready, but faltered. Something was off. “Laurin…”

“Yes Mistress?” she perked up expectantly.

“Are…” Her brows knit together, “are you not in pain?”

“Do you wish me to be?” The Mord-Sith quickly reached for Nyda’s Agiel, but was promptly shoved back.

“No, Laurin, stop,” Kahlan confirmed, then when the blonde straightened happily, glanced to Berdine in awe. “My magic isn’t killing her.”

Berdine appeared to already be deep in contemplation over the matter. “Perhaps when we bonded to you, your magic reconciled whatever it was that caused the violent death?”

Laurin again brightened, happy to have some information to offer. “I am not bonded to you, Mother Confessor!”

“ _What_?” Her eyes returned sharply. “But you took the oath.”

“Yes, Mistress. But I rejected you in my heart and I returned to only feeling the weakness of the Rahl bond, as before.”

Another look passed between Berdine and Kahlan. “I thought you could feel when we bond to you?”

“I can. But it was all pretty new to me then,” she admitted with a small shake of the head, “and some of you were bonding two or three at a time.”

The brunette nodded her understanding. “Well, it is good to know Constance is unlikely able to track us down by feeling. It appears once you reject this bond, it rejects you right back.”

“And the whole not dying painfully part?” Rikka asked curiously.

Berdine shrugged. “I can only guess the same thing. That the creation of this bond has somehow reconciled the Mord-Sith magic with the Confessor’s and it will no longer kill us.”

“Just confess us?” Rikka confirmed.

“How about you test it for us,” Berdine smirked.

“Yeah, do it.” Hally shoved Rikka lightly in the back, getting a scowl in return.

Kahlan rolled her eyes. “Nobody is testing anything.”

Rikka tilted her head towards Hania, “So what should we do with these two?”

The Confessor brushed her hair back behind her ear, and considered the two women. “Hania can resume her duties,” she confirmed. “And I suppose, so can Laurin, after I have a few words with her.”

Hania pushed forward with a frown to retrieve her Agiel, that had been held by Raina. When she reached out for it, Kahlan placed a hand on her forearm. “You don’t keep anything like this from me again.”

The woman managed to look sheepish and defiant all at once. She gave a curt nod then stormed off across camp.

“Do you think that was a mistake?” She leaned to ask Berdine as they watched her go. 

“No. I believe what she says.” Berdine turned to her seriously. “I mean, after we end Rahl she might try to kill you, but for now you’re good.”

Kahlan wiped her brow with a laugh, then turned to her newly confessed Mord-Sith. “Alright, Laurin. Lets you and I have a talk.”

\-----------------

They had stopped not long ago for a brief lunch, then were quickly back on their mounts. Kahlan could feel the butterflies increasing with every step her horse moved her closer to their destination. It would still be several marks before they reached where the Dragon Corp had set up their blockade, but closer was closer. 

She just needed to see with her own eyes that Cara was alright. Even though it was likely going to come with a lecture to all those in camp for how close Laurin had gotten to Kahlan in the night. Hopefully Cara didn’t try to reintroduce herself to all night watch duty in the wake of this. And she shuttered to think of how Richard was going to react.

She glanced over her shoulder to where the confessed Mord-Sith was riding dotingly behind her. Being followed by a Confessed was always a little unnerving. But something about it being a Mord-Sith was doubly so. 

A ruckus ahead drew back her attention. The procession parted in front of her and two riders were coming at her down the middle. A man and a blonde Mord-Sith that quickly came into focus as Richard and Galina.

Her stomach fell away. Why were they _here_?

“Where is Cara?” she demanded as they reached her.

Richard’s brow twitched a moment, then he sighed. “We were up on the ridge taking out the men, and one of the Dragon Corp shot at me…”

Kahlan could feel the blood drain out of her face. 

“Cara jumped and…”

“ _Creator_ , _Seeker_ ,” Galina cut off gruffly. “Cara is fine, Mother Confessor. But she is down a rather large hole and we need a rope to get her out.”

Kahlan’s eyes filled with relief as she threw Galina a grateful look. She let out a long breath with the tension she had been holding, then she was off her horse and striding towards the supply cart. Her confessed Mord-Sith was right on her tail. “Laurin, find as much rope as possible, then follow me.”

“Yes Mistress,” the blonde jumped up into the cart and began digging. 

Kahlan turned back towards her horse, barking out her orders. “Rikka, and,” she paused a beat to reconsider her choice. But if she was going to continue to trust her, she should trust her. “And Hania. You come with us. Everyone else, follow as planned. Berdine you’re in charge.” Then she pulled herself back into her saddle and galloped off, not looking to check if the Seeker, or anyone else had followed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope nobody minded the first 2/3rds of this chapter which were completely self indulgent. I went down the rabbit hole. I wanted to write a couple paragraphs of Kahlan asking Raina how she and Berdine managed to come together in the clusterfuck that is life under Rahl, and it turned into almost 2500 words of backstory, which I actually now want to turn into a full length fic... But we will put a pin in that for now, because I need to get you to the end of this one first, LOL. 
> 
> Also, sorry to any book readers for brining up the Chipmunk-Feels. But the show bastardized the chipmunks by giving them to Leo, and I took them back!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't decide if I wanted to add more to this chapter or not, so I am choosing NO, so you can get it now. If it means more chapters later, I know you all wont mind.

Cara came level with the edge of the cliff, and with a grunt, pulled herself over the lip and up onto her feet. Galina did not insult her with the offering of a hand. Nor did the other two Mord-Sith anchoring the other side of the rope. Though Cara _did_ do a double take, and then a grimace, at who those two were. Hania of all people, and a far too satisfied looking Rikka.

“We leave you alone for five minutes, Cara, and you fall in a hole?”

Cara turned a flat look on Galina. “Put me back.”

Galina only smiled at her while Rikka went on. “You know this is almost worth having children for.” She looked up at the sky fondly. “I mean the tale of how the great Cara Mason found herself rescued like a sheep in a well, should be passed down through the generations, don’t you think?”

“Seriously, put me back.”

Galina slapped her on the shoulder forcing Cara to hold back a hiss when she jarred her wound. “Don’t worry. You are unlikely to live long enough to suffer the embarrassment.” Her Sister nodded her head past the sullen looking Hania, to an anxious looking figure standing a little further back on solid ground.

Why did she get the feeling she was about to endure a lecture?

“Yeah, not even I can help you with that,” Rikka added.

Cara rolled her eyes, sighed, and started climbing up the remaining cliff face to meet her fate. Fortunately, the huge bruise she could feel forming on the side of her thigh was not causing a limp, and though her head hurt like hell, she was no longer dizzy. Most of the other bruises and scrapes were inconsequential. Even the stinging cut from the arrow was likely only in need of cleaning and a bandage to keep it from rubbing. The bigger nuisance was the tear she could feel across the back of her leathers. She scowled a bit, then straightened her face before dragging herself up in front of the Confessor.

Kahlan’s features melted from fierce concentration into relief, and abruptly the Mord-Sith found herself trapped in a tight embrace. Cara didn’t return it, but she did relax in the Confessor’s arms. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured. “I only needed a rope, Kahlan. You didn’t need to rush all the way down here.” Cara only caught a quick glimpse of Laurin hovering in the background before Kahlan was pushing off her and slapping her in the arm. “Ow!” She complained more out of protest of being hit, than actually being wounded.

“You promised me you wouldn’t get hurt!”

Cara tossed her an affronted gaze. “I am _not_ hurt.”

“Cara you fell twenty yards down a cliff and your hair is full of blood.”

She absentmindedly ran her hand back and sure enough it was a mixture of matted damp and crust from the drying blood. “It is nothing. Besides, I said no Dragon Corp could take me down, not that I would return unscratched.”

“ _Unscratched_?” Kahlan’s eyes flashed indignantly. 

Cara sighed. “What did you want me to do, Kahlan? Let Richard take an arrow in the back?”

She was a little surprised at how long it took the Confessor to answer. She finally let out a noisy breath of resignation. “When Richard appeared on the road, I thought…” she trailed off but her eyes were filled with so much emotion it made Cara want to squirm.

She swallowed hard. “I am okay, Kahlan,” she assured again. “I have had far worse.”

A crooked half-smile broke across the Confessor’s frowning face. “You know that’s not really much of a comfort.”

“Please,” Cara scoffed. “The foulest part about this whole endeavour was that you brought Rikka to get me out of the hole. Was that really necessary?”

“You said yourself she is the most capable of your Sisters.” The worry lines on Kahlan’s face melted into something a little more playful. “I would have thought you’d want her with me on the road.”

“I would _want_ you to stay with the group and just send the rope,” Cara insisted.

The Confessor’s eyes turned intent, her half-smile now a challenge. “And if our situations were reversed, would you have _stayed with the group_?”

Cara huffed and refused to dignify that with an answer. Then Kahlan’s hand was grasping hers and she was looking at her softly. For a moment all the pain of her injuries dissipated into the more pleasant pain of being lost in those ice blue eyes. _Do you know how much trouble its going to bring down on her if she mates herself to a Mord-Sith?_ The words from her dream returned with a sting. Cara coughed and pulled her hand away. “Where is Richard?”

Kahlan straightened with a small frown. “Down below with Hannah and the men. We should probably get down there ourselves.” She hesitated, looking over at the steep hill down. “Maybe we should lower you with the rope.”

“Kahlan, I am walking off this hill myself, or I am going back in the damn ground.”

“Okay,” she breathed. Obviously, this was not up for negotiation. The Confessor tossed a look back over her shoulder to the waiting Mord-Sith. “Laurin, you can head back down.”

“Yes Confessor,” she said with a nod. 

Cara frowned at the odd enthusiasm. “Okay, I _suppose_ I get Rikka,” she muttered as they moved over to the slightly less jagged side of the escarpment, to survey for the best way down. “But why did you bring Hania and Laurin? Were you trying to punish them or yourself?”

The uneasy look the Confessor shot her gave her no comfort. “Let’s get down from here, then I’ll explain.” 

She could only scowl at the back of Kahlan’s head from the non-answer, because she immediately turned and began to pick her way down the cliffside. Which of course only made Cara’s scowl deepen, because Cara should be the one going first to carve the safest path, _not_ the Confessor.

It was more difficult than a week under an Agiel would get her to admit. Alternately extending her injured leg and having to put all her weight on it, to keep balance on the narrow ledges with their sketchy footing. And Kahlan was leading them down _slow._ Sometimes taking several minutes before deciding on which way to make her next step. By the time they reached the ground, a fine sheen of sweat had formed across Cara’s brow. _Screw it,_ she thought. Her pride was already damaged from being extracted from that damn crack in the earth, what is another moment of weakness? She slumped down unceremoniously on the nearest bolder to rest.

Mercifully, Rikka only slapped a waterskin in her lap as she passed. Hania and Galina, carrying the large coil of rope, came down last. Cara glanced up at the latter with a wry face. “Please tell me somebody brought my pack down.”

“Hannah brought your things down earlier,” she nodded with a grin. “The only thing left on that hill is your dignity.”

Cara rolled her eyes as her Sister moved off, leaving her once again with an intent looking Kahlan. “What?”

Instead of answering, the Confessor was suddenly hovering directly over her, tilting her head forward to inspect the injury. 

“ _Kahlan.”_

Her protest went ignored. “You have a bump, but the cut has clotted,” she muttered. “You need to clean this.”

“It stopped bleeding some marks ago.” She flailed to pull Kahlan’s arms down and pushed her head back to escape the examination. “I am fine.”

Kahlan looked as if she wasn’t sure she should believe her.

Cara huffed. “I am bruised, in need of a bath, and perhaps some thread to stitch my leathers,” her hand went back to caress the cut as she said it. “But there is nothing that will affect my ability to keep you safe. …Any of you,” she tacked on weakly, frowning into the waterskin as she took a drink to hide her slip.

By Kahlan’s tight-lipped smile, she wasn’t buying it. 

“Mother Confessor, would you like some water?” Laurin was suddenly standing beside Kahlan, affectionately holding out the offered vessel.

“No, thank you Laurin. Please just go watch the road with the others and listen to anything Rikka tells you.”

“Yes, Confessor.” The blonde smiled and went to her task.

There were so many things wrong with that sight that Cara didn’t know where to start. Maybe the glassy eyes. “Wait,” her brows pinched together, trying to make sense of what she knew she was seeing. “Is she _confessed_?”

The remorseful look that flashed across Kahlan’s face was all the confirmation Cara needed, and she was back on her feet before the Confessor could actually respond. How a confessed Mord-Sith was not dead was a big question. But not the most important one. “What. Happened.” Her words were clipped and demanding. 

“Cara, I’m fine.”

The Mord-Sith’s intent gaze became a burning scowl. “And why would you _not_ have been fine?” she asked slowly. Her eyes darted between the Confessor and her apparently confessed Mord-Sith, now smiling at Rikka for direction. 

Kahlan chewed on her lip then let out a sigh. “Last night Laurin attempted to… kill… me.”

As fast as Cara registered the words, she was off. But just as fast, Kahlan was grabbing at her arm to halt her. The one attached to her injured shoulder. The slight shock of pain was enough to distract her into compliance. She stood glaring at the blonde; hand ready on an Agiel.

“Cara, she is already confessed,” Kahlan implored. “There is nothing more you can do to her.”

“Sure there is,” she chewed back.

“She doesn’t _exist_ anymore.”

A calming hand came to rest on her back. It succeeded in taking the fight out of her for the briefest of moments, until she caught another Sister looking her way. “What was Hania’s role in this?” She should have beat them both and left them for the vultures on the steps of the People’s Palace.

“Actually, she’s the one who stopped Laurin.”

Cara’s dubious gaze turned on the Confessor.

“Really. Laurin knocked out Amber and cut through the tent. Hania stopped her.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” the Mord-Sith’s eyes narrowed back in her Sister’s direction. 

Kahlan let out a hesitant sigh. “Hania knew Laurin was not with us since the beginning.”

Cara started off again.

“Cara,” Kahlan called after her. “Cara, wait. _Please_.”

As if spelled, the last word ceased her pace. The Confessor moved to stand directly in her path, holding her with her eyes. “She saved my life, Cara.”

Cara tilted her head angrily. “And what if she only wanted to deliver you to Rahl herself? She knew and she said nothing.”

“I do not believe she had nefarious intensions.”

“You can’t read Mord-Sith.”

“No,” Kahlan agreed, “I cannot. But I _have_ spent my life sorting those of ill intent from the crowd, and maybe I don’t need magic to see when a person is trying.”

Cara flexed her hands and scowled at the ground. She knew it had been her confidence in her Sisters that had allowed Kahlan to trust the Mord-Sith. This was as much her fault as Laurin or Hania’s.

“I do not doubt your Sisters because of this, Cara. And this is not your fault. I saw just as well as you, how unhappy those two were to be with us. I should have had them watched more closely, but I was too worried about gaining the Mord-Sith’s trust, I didn’t’ want to show a lack of it myself.”

She turned her frown on Kahlan and her irritating ability to read her thoughts. “You can still trust us after this?”

Now Kahlan was frowning. “First of all, of course I can. I would never let the actions of one cast judgement on another. Not only have I come to respect these women, but I have grown quite fond of them as well. And I have no doubt if Hania so much as looks at me funny, the question of what to do about it will be taken firmly out of my hands.”

Cara offered a half-smirk at that.

“And secondly, _us_?” Kahlan threw up her hands. “ _Really_?”

“I am Mord-Sith.”

“Yes. And you are Cara, and my friend, and I…” Her words faltered, and for a moment Cara thought she looked as if she were in pain. Then she sighed heavily. “You are so much, Cara, and I could never have anything but complete faith in you. I don’t know how you can still question that.”

She spotted Richard past Kahlan’s shoulder, taking them in a moment before starting their way. Her voice came out quiet. “Perhaps you hold me in too high of esteem.”

Kahlan’s glare was back in full force.

“Cara! I’m so glad you’re alright.” Richard strode up with a relieved smile that reminded her too much of her dream. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Then don’t,” she clipped. 

“How hard did you hit your head?” He looked her over carefully. “You look a little ill. You might have a concussion.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, avoiding the still questioning gaze on the Confessor’s face. “We should dismantle the Dragon Corp camp and move away from the road before it gets dark.” Then she marched off, not waiting for agreement.

\-------------------

Cara sat on a crate in front of a basin of hot water, in a small tent that had been set up for her to bathe in. She grumbled over the fussing at first, when Kahlan set her confessed Mord-Sith and newly confessed Dragon Corp soldier they had captured on the road, to the task of drawing her a hot bath. But here alone in the tent, she could admit she was looking forward to it. Even if the basin was only a yard wide and deep enough for the water to rise just below the knee. Not having to soak her aching body in an ice-cold mountain stream to get clean right now, was a gift. 

She slowly pealed off her leathers, pausing to glower at the tear in the shoulder, then stepped into the water. She stopped a moment to take inventory of her injuries. Her body hadn’t looked this beaten since she had been left for dead by her Sisters. Her eyes couldn’t travel more than a couple of inches without another scrape or contusion. To a Mord-Sith, however, most of it was hardly more than cosmetic. Save for the huge purple bruise now occupying the better part of her left thigh, the pain was background noise and the marks would fade within days. 

Stretching for one of the extra buckets of heated water did cause a pull in her ribs and shoulder. But it didn’t even warrant a grimace. She lifted the bucket and slowly poured the hot water down her back, then bent for the washcloth. The fact that this felt like such a luxury meant it had been far too long since she had indulged in a proper bath. Brennidon, perhaps? A month ago.

At least there was one thing to look forward too when settling in Aydindril. She was certain the Confessor’s Palace had no shortage of baths. She scowled at herself as she scrubbed over her bruised skin. It was not like she hadn’t realized her arrival in the Midland’s capital would bring controversy. Certainly, it would cause a stir in the council, and likely a tense conversation between sisters. But it never felt like more than Kahlan could handle. And after that, Cara had mostly envisioned the contempt directed at herself. 

Perhaps that was because until recently she hadn’t realistically _envisioned_ _herself_ as anything more than a protector.

The seed of doubt had been planted now, and she could not shake the feeling that thrusting herself into Kahlan’s life was not a completely selfish thing to do. Perhaps this was what had been keeping the Confessor at a distance. She was undoubtably sure now that Kahlan did, against all odds and logic, feel _something_ for her. But she was still holding back. 

Even earlier, it felt like Kahlan was restraining herself. Censoring her words. Maybe she knew exactly how much trouble it would be for her to… to choose Cara. 

The Mord-Sith sneered before snatching up another bucket of water and pouring it down her front. She allowed herself a moment to relish in the cascade of heat before the chill of the air cut through it. Then she returned to scrubbing. She could hardly blame Kahlan. She was not worth jeopardizing her reputation over, or her position. 

“Geeze Cara, you get the first hot bath in weeks at least try to enjoy it a little.”

Cara rolled her eyes and glanced over her shoulder at Hally. She was bringing in yet another bucket of hot water, and holding a small pouch. 

“To patch your leathers,” the young blonde explained when she noticed Cara eyeing it, then raised the bucket a little. “And I thought perhaps you’d like some help washing your hair.”

“I am quite capable of washing my own hair,” she grumbled. Her injuries were not _that_ bad.

Hally laughed as she put down the water. “And yet you made me do it at least a hundred times in my youth.”

Cara grinned. “It was my job to make sure an apprenticing Mord-Sith knew her place. And you are _still_ a youth.”

“A youth with wrists of an old woman from scrubbing your scalp and cleaning your leathers,” she muttered. “And you aren’t _that_ much older than me.”

“Old enough to get a good couple years of use out of you,” Cara smirked back. “And you are lucky I took you under my wing. Some Sisters would have expected much worse, and you would have learned far less.”

“I know,” Hally said candidly. “Which is why you are going to let me use those skills now.” The blonde snatched up Cara’s leathers from where they were sitting on the crate and went right to work patching the damage. 

Cara rolled her eyes and went back to bathing. She supposed it was not weakness to have a Sister of the Agiel help with such things. It had just been so long since she had been around that support, she found she was unused to it. 

She pulled hot water up with the cloth and let it roll back down her body into the basin, slowly cleaning away the dirt, sweat and blood resulting from her fall. After a few minutes, she turned to find Hally waiting with a towel. 

“Sit,” she ordered and gestured in front of the crate that now held a bucket of hot water. Cara glared at the order, but complied. Hally took position on the far side of the crate and lowered her older Sister’s head back into the bucket. 

It was not unpleasant. As Hally took a bar of soap and slowly lathered up her blood-matted locks. Even the occasional pressure on her head wound was not enough to distract from the gentle massage her head was currently enjoying.

“I must admit,” Hally spoke softly as she worked. “I half expected you to kill us all when we caught up with you today.”

Cara didn’t need to ask to what she referred. “It was as much my failing as anything,” she admitted. “I should have seen it coming.”

“We all should have. But honestly it would not have entered my mind that she would fake her oath. Even those who rejected the Mother Confessor would have shunned her for such a move.”

“Maybe,” Cara said uncommittedly.

Hally’s fingers hesitated on her scalp as she asked her next question. Her words were quiet. “Do you still trust us?”

Cara scowled backwards over her head at her Sister. “Of course, I trust you Hally. Always.” She felt a little sheepish now for asking the same of Kahlan. 

Fingers resumed their work. “And the others?”

“I’ll admit, I do not trust Hania still, and there are other Sisters, that if they show up and claim themselves bonded to the Mother Confessor, I will not be able to accept blindly. But for the most part, yes.”

Hally began pouring water over Cara’s head to rinse the soap away. “And the Mother Confessor? Do you think she still trusts us?” 

Cara grunted. “Ridiculously so. She even still trusts Hania.” 

“You know, there may be a way to know for sure.”

“How is that?” Cara asked as she sat up and began to towel her hair.

“The bond,” Hally stated. “The Mother Confessor can connect and hold onto it with ease now. She need only reach out to a Sister, and if she cannot find a connection, that means they did not truly bond to her.”

That _was_ promising. Only one problem. “I doubt Kahlan will want to run around pushing the bond on everyone.”

“No doubt. She is very hesitant, even with me,” Hally agreed. “But no Sister in her service will object to submitting in the name of the Mother Confessor’s safety.”

Cara considered her younger Sister a moment. “And how is that going? With you?” She had been hesitant to ask. Even though Kahlan had sought her approval, it still felt like none of her business. Sisters would strut around unabashedly naked, displaying both their bodies and their wounds like badges of honour. But the bond was on a whole other plain of intimate. 

Hally smiled assuredly. “It is not unpleasant. It is very different than Rahl. Mostly you only feel a warmth and her concern for you.” The blonde shook her head, “though really she hasn’t tried anything beyond holding the connection.”

“Thank you,” Cara said quietly. “For doing this with her. I know it was a lot to ask.”

“I am honoured she thinks so highly of me.”

“You rode your horse to dangerous extremes and for some reason she likes you for it,” Cara scoffed, trying to diffuse the heavy emotions threatening to settle into the conversation. “I wouldn’t brag.”

“Don’t be jealous because you are too old for such stamina,” Hally grinned. “Now let’s take care of your shoulder.”

Cara just rolled her eyes.

\-----------------------

With no time to hunt that day, dinner was a simple stew of root vegetables and beans. But Cara hadn’t eaten all day, and frankly it tasted amazing. She, Kahlan and a handful of her Sisters sat on logs around a large fire taking their evening meal. Richard was nowhere to be found, which likely meant Kahlan had filled him in on the events leading her to possess a confessed Mord-Sith. A confessed Mord-Sith who was quietly standing several yards behind the Mother Confessor, next to a confessed soldier, both keeping a watchful eye over camp.

They didn’t learn a lot from the soldier, other than the last messenger sent north would be the last. Seeing as no more would even reach the People’s Palace before the next moon. That could only mean Rahl was confident he would be able to enact the spell. 

They were also still sending a messenger back and forth between the road blockade and the Pillars of Creation, every four days, with the last leaving two days prior. Which meant they had two days before their actions were discovered, unless they intercepted the messenger on the road, to confess and keep their advance hidden. 

“So, what _do_ you think happens to the bond when I die?”

Cara tore her attention from her food to scowl at Kahlan across the flames. But the Confessor was looking at Berdine.

Berdine contemplated around a mouth full of stew. “If it is anything like the Rahl bond, its abilities will pass to your children. It will be strongest in your oldest, and should they choose to claim it, by rights it will be theirs.” 

“And if I don’t have children before I die?”

The lines in Cara’s forehead cut deep. 

“Since you are the first in its creation, I cannot say for sure, quite possibly the bond will die with you.”

Kahlan took that in with a solemn nod. “There is no chance it would pass to my sister?”

Cara blanched at the thought as Berdine’s eyes flashed over to her. “I thought you killed her sister?” She quickly grimaced and looked back to the Confessor. “Sorry.”

“I did,” Cara confirmed. “But Denna resurrected her into another’s body and sent her to assassinate me.”

That set off a chain of curious yet impressed looks between the Mord-Sith.

“Well crap,” Rikka exclaimed. “Denna was nothing if not creative.”

“She has not been seen or heard from in some time,” Raina added. “There were some rumours of an ill-conceived plot to take over the army, then she just disappeared.”

Kahlan sighed. “She broke a General and put him in the Seeker’s body. It was quite a mess but we set it back right.”

Hally barked out a laugh. “Well one thing’s for certain, a world controlled by that woman would not be boring.”

Cara wasn’t really listening though. She was too focused on the sad look on Kahlan’s face and trying to interpret its meaning. Was she remembering she indeed had a sister who hated Cara very much? Or perhaps just recalling the first time she put her daggers into her _love_? 

“Hush,” Berdine admonished. “Creator forbid that narcissist gain dominion over us. We would spend the remainder of our days on our knees licking her boots and praising her greatness.”

“Right,” Rikka agreed. “Because we all know you only do that for Raina.”

Raina smiled softly as Berdine narrowed her eyes. 

“She is dead,” Cara announced before Berdine could get in her comeback, then hesitated. “Probably. With Denna you can never know for sure. But she fell off a mountain with my arrow through her centre.” 

That revelation brought a moment of silence to the circle of women. Denna was an enigma amongst the Sisters. She was ruthlessly driven to be favoured above all others, stepping on anyone she had to, to get there. But also, she had respect. It was common knowledge she had been nearly impossible to break. With the Lord Rahl himself finally getting involved to finish the job. 

And it was also known that after she had finally been broken, she still somehow mustered the courage to kill the one who had been tasked with her training. Then survived the punishment. Whispered gossip in the Temple halls would lead you to believe it had been done in Constance name as much as her own.

In the end they were all Sisters. All stolen from their childhood and twisted by the same monster until they were monsters themselves. All beaten and brainwashed to love only the Lord Rahl. So deep down, there could be no judgement or hatred for another Sister. Even Laurin, Cara realized. Yes, she still wanted to end her. And would do so in a heartbeat were she still in existence. But no judgement.

Who knows, without a few key Sisters coming into her life at key moments, how she herself would have turned out. She had crusaded heavily in the Lord Rahl’s name. Spent her days striving for his favour. The difference seemed to boil down to whether you had acquired a greater loyalty to your Sisters than your Lord.

It was a flaw in how the Mord-Sith were created. Rahl’s tight cloistered Sisterhood of loyal followers, in pain and understanding, too easily grew loyal to each other. And in the end, that is why they were all here now.

Finally, Berdine cut into the silence. “Back to your question, Mother Confessor, since you and your sister did not share a parent with the bond, my first inclination would be that no, it could not be passed to her. Even more so, since it appears she is no longer in her own body. But as you know, Confessor magic is bound to the spirit, not the blood. Perhaps as you share a connection that way, it could make the transfer. But this is without precedent and I really don’t know.”

Kahlan nodded thoughtfully.

To Cara, the thought of Dennee holding the bond over her was almost as terrifying as Rahl regaining control. Fortunately for Cara she was already fully committed to keeping the Confessor in one piece. 

“And if the bond transfers to no one,” Kahlan went on, “and I die…” 

Cara’s spoon faltered on the way to her mouth. She really wished she would stop saying that.

“What do you think happens to you? Will you once again be subject to Rahl?”

“I don’t know,” Berdine stated grimly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my ever growing head cannon that is the ways of the Mord-Sith, I picture that after they are finally done with their breakings, there is another step before they become full Sisters, where they are more like apprentices. Where they work on their skills and combat training, and other Sisters provide guidance... and also make sure they know their place. Cara of course would assign herself to be a mentor for Hally. And really who was going to argue with Cara?
> 
> I drew in some book cannon when talking about Denna. I always enjoyed her backstory. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Again some mentions of Rahl and his non-consensual relations with Mord-Sith.

It had been an uncomfortable couple of days. First, there was the Seeker, who’s mistrust of the Mord-Sith surged to all new heights in the wake of realizing Kahlan had needed to confess one. For the sake of keeping him from completely losing his mind, she held back the information about Hania’s involvement, beyond her stepping in and stopping Laurin. 

But that didn’t stop the tirade of why they had to grab their things and get away from the Mord-Sith that very moment. When Kahlan had refused and reaffirmed her trust in the women she had been travelling with these past several weeks, Richard stormed off and had been spending his time almost exclusively with the soldiers ever since. 

Well, that wasn’t true. He would regularly skulk past where Kahlan was speaking with some Sisters, or maneuver his horse up and down the column of riders, sternly surveying the procession with a hand on the pommel of his sword. But inevitably, he would meander back to the soldiers for company.

She couldn’t help but note the irony that Richard trusted the men who were not bonded to her, more than the women who were. 

And then there was Cara. She had once again returned to sleeping in front of the fire. She claimed it was from need of ‘some fresh air and sky’ after being trapped in the ground. But Kahlan couldn’t shake the feeling something beyond scrapes and bruises had happened when they were apart. Cara felt stiff and distant. 

She knew the blonde hadn’t fully let go of the incident with Laurin and Hania either. In fact, she was quite certain Cara had words with Hania the previous night. They both came marching out of the woods one after the other, the latter looking fairly flushed, the former walking straight across camp to speak with Rikka without sparing her a glance.

Kahlan wanted to be mad at Cara for not trusting her instincts on Hania. But honestly, she could not judge. She was quite certain had it been Cara who Laurin had tried to kill, she would have had Hania slammed up against a tree by the throat before she could so much as sputter an excuse. Cara was protective because of how fiercely she cared. 

Now if she could only figure out why she was caring from the other side of camp. 

“You are distracted tonight.” 

“Sorry Hally.” Kahlan offered the young blonde a soft smile. “I let my mind wander.”

“Because the Seeker wants to kill us all, or because Cara is sleeping outside?”

Kahlan tried not to flush at her transparency.

“Well, you need not worry, Mother Confessor,” Hally assured. “The Seeker will not hurt us, and not only because he does not possess the skills.” The blonde grinned cockily, pulling a short huff of a laugh from Kahlan. “But also, because it would damage his relationship with you.”

That was part of the problem, Kahlan thought. The Seeker was still clinging to a future he could not have. She was going to have to set him straight. But it seemed there was always something else upsetting Richard, and she kept holding back out of lack of appetite to pile on. 

She could not hold off much longer though. It was unfair to the Seeker, unfair to herself, and unfair to Cara too, if she were honest. Even if she could traverse her reservations about moving forward with Cara, because of her power, she could not do so with Richard still believing there was a hope for them.

“As for Cara, you could have her back in your bed before you could blink if you invite Rikka to stay in here tonight.”

Kahlan shook her head with a chuckle. “I am more concerned with _why_ Cara is sleeping by the fire, than the actual act.” 

Hally’s brows arched in a way that said she didn’t quite buy that, but okay, if you say so. “Have you tried asking her?”

“Of course. She says she desires some open space to breathe after being stuck in a dark hole.”

“Okay, and have you tried asking and not letting her get away with the lame excuse?”

Kahlan’s face fell flat. “Stop making sense.”

Hally laughed. “Well, if you don’t like me making sense, you will not like what I have to say next.”

“And what is that?”

“You need to try something.” The blonde stretched where she sat, then settled back in expectantly. “Beyond connecting. You have to try and use the bond.”

“Hally…”

“It’s time, Kahlan. You can find the connection with ease now, and from a distance. Its time to take the next step, or what are we even doing this for?”

Hally was right. They had tried it this morning during the ride, even finding success a couple of times when the Mord-Sith was completely out of sight. As long as Kahlan had a pretty good idea of where she was, she could reach for her and find her. There was really no point to this exercise anymore unless they were going to take it further.

Still, forcing any of these women to do anything against their will, after the lives they had led, made her feel ill.

“Kahlan,” Hally interrupted her wandering thoughts again. She waited until the Confessor was looking at her to continue. “You have my consent to impose your will on me.”

Kahlan sucked in her lip, nodding once firmly. 

They still sat on the bed when they did this. More for comfort, and the Confessor’s desire to keep the atmosphere casual, than need. But the days of holding hands and closing her eyes to search for the bond, were behind her. She took a deep breath, then she opened herself to the connection. 

Once she got the hang of it, she realized the bond wasn’t so different than using her Confessor power. How it reached out and grabbed hold of the other. Tethering them. But now, instead of verbalizing her will, she was to compel it with her feelings. With her desire.

She decided to go with something simple and hopefully not so violating. Pulling an Agiel. Mord-Sith loved their Agiels, that shouldn’t be so bad. Kahlan let out one more long breath, and with it, pushed her want into the bond. 

Hally smiled crookedly. “I can feel what you want of me, but not hard enough to force me. When you get good at this, I wont even know it is your desire until I am already doing it.”

Kahlan paled. She definitely never wanted to be responsible for that. She couldn’t begin to imagine how violating that felt.

And then she was. 

Or rather she was reliving memories of it. Memories that were not hers. Just flashes. An angry Rahl. Blinding pain. An overwhelming compulsion to strike down a Sister. Hitting her over and over, and wanting it, but also wanting nothing more than to stop and not being able to. Watching your own feet following Rahl into his chambers…

Kahlan jerked and severed the connection. She was sweating and shaking and her eyes were wide as she sought out the blue ones across from her. “Hally! I am so sorry! I don’t even know what I did, I just…”

“Wanted to know how it felt,” Hally finished. For the first time since they started this, she looked uncomfortable and a little washed out. She forced a smile. “I did not know the bond could do that.”

Kahlan was horrified. Tears were threatening to spill, and the only thing holding them back was respect for the woman she sat with. She couldn’t make this about her. Still, she struggled for something to say.

Hally beat her to it. “That was about three years ago.”

“Hally, you don’t have to…”

The Mord-Sith shook her head. “It’s fine. Not speaking of the memory does not make it less real.” She let out a noisy breath. “Mistress Lily and I had been sent to track down, capture and break a man for the Lord Rahl. He was believed to possess the knowledge needed to breach the barrier to the Old World. The man killed himself rather than be taken, by cutting his own throat.”

Kahlan wanted to reach out but resisted as Hally went on.

“It was my first real mission for Lord Rahl, so he was lenient with me. After punishing us both with the bond, he gave me the honour,” she spoke the word as if it was the furthest thing from being an honour, “of using my hand to punish Lily further for our failing.” 

Kahlan swallowed back the bile threatening to rise in her throat. She felt like she had just taken something from Hally that she couldn’t give back.

Unless she could.

Her brow knit together. “Hally,” she hesitated, “Can I try something?”

“Of course.”

Kahlan’s frown deepened. “Don’t _of course_ me. After what just happened, I don’t even know how you’re still sitting here.”

“Because I trust you, and I believe you are doing this for us.” The Mord-Sith leaned in meaningfully. “You should know it does not feel the same. Your empathy is always the first thing I feel.”

She nodded slowly. She wasn’t sure how that made it better.

“So, what is it you would like to try?”

“Here,” Kahlan smiled appreciatively and shuffled closer to mimic her position from the first time she tried to feel the bond. Following her lead, Hally folded her legs under herself, and offered her hands. 

This time, as Kahlan opened herself, she did close her eyes. And then she remembered.

She was maybe six. Her hands bound. Her father towering over her, ordering her to confess yet another man. She had lost count of how many people her father had made her touch with her power. The man looked terrified, and he had a child with him. A little girl, no older than Dennee. A little girl who was about to lose her father, because _her_ father wanted Creator knew what. His money? His house? Or perhaps only to keep him silent. 

She refused at first. Even has her father grabbed her by the arm and shook her. But she wasn’t going to give in this time. No matter how much she feared he would hurt her.

But in the end, she always gave in. Because her father reached for Dennee. Her sister was screaming, her face red and tear stained. Terrified. He would make Dennee if she did not do it. She couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let her sister bear that weight. 

To this day the look of fear and sorrow in the man’s face as she released her power still haunted her. Turning his gaze at the last second on the daughter he would no longer know.

Kahlan released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and with it the connection. She felt Hally squeeze her hands.

“You did not have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” Kahlan wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I know its not exactly the same thing, but I do know what it is like to feel out of control of your own actions. Which is why I won’t impose myself on you again.”

“What about strengthening the bond?”

Kahlan shook her head violently. “I have heard nothing that says forcing people against their will, makes the bond stronger. Only recognizing it and connecting with it. Zedd is always speaking of the unintended consequences of magic. The bond was created as a protection. Not a control. Over the centuries the Rahls have perverted it.” She shook her head again, “and I just won’t.”

Hally nodded then smiled brightly. “I knew coming with you was the right path.”

Kahlan found herself blushing. 

Feeling a little emotionally drained, she decided to call it a night, but got up to walk Hally from the tent. She noticed Richard was sitting on a rock not far away, and perked up at her appearance. She ignored him a moment and called out to Hally before she got too far. 

The blonde looked back expectantly, and Kahlan once again opened herself to the bond. Repeating what she had first tried, but emphasising it as a request. Hally rolled her eyes and reached for her weapon. 

Kahlan smiled. “That works just fine, don’t you think?”

The Mord-Sith bowed her head with a smirk and moved off across camp. Then her eyes caught Cara, sitting near a fire, sharpening her dagger on a whetstone. Perhaps she should go try talking to her before bed.

She turned around when she felt a presence beside her.

“They wouldn’t let me disturb you,” he gestured at the two Mord-Sith guarding her tent.

“I was working with Hally on strengthening the bond.” She thought the Seeker never looked more uncomfortable. “What can I help you with Richard?” She truly hoped this wasn’t going to turn into another fight.

“I think I should start sleeping with you.” Kahlan’s eyes went wide at the suggestion, and Richard waved his hands frantically. “I only mean in your tent.” He pointed his hand in the direction of the fire and frowned. “I can’t help but notice Cara hasn’t been staying with you the last few nights, and I don’t think you should be staying alone.”

This was going to be another fight.

“Richard, I’m perfectly safe.”

“You don’t know that,” he challenged. 

“Besides the Mord-Sith watching my tent,” she ignored his scoff, “I have two Confessed looking out for me.”

“You should have somebody you _know_ in there with you.”

“Well, Cara needs some space right now, and I’m not going to force her.”

Richard shook his head angrily. “That is why I should stay with you.”

Kahlan sighed. “I am safe, Richard. You need to stop worrying about me.”

“Of course, I’m going to worry about you Kahlan, I love you!”

She couldn’t help but notice the increasing number of gazes turning their way. Including the slightly frowning face of Cara, looking up from sharpening her blade. She held her eyes for a moment. 

She had to do this now. “Richard, lets go inside and talk.”

He smiled at that. But he wouldn’t be smiling for long. 

“Please sit down,” she indicated for him to take a seat and took the one across from him. She wasn’t sure where to start.

Richard pushed his hands forward on the table. “I can’t wait until this is over and we can settle back in Aydindril.”

Kahlan exhaled slowly. “Aydindril? I thought you wanted to go back to the Westland and start a family.”

He looked at her softly. “You know that would be my preference Kahlan, but Cara helped me understand that you have a duty that you can’t turn your back on, and I need to support you if I want to be with you.”

She found herself pushing back at a wave of irritation and hurt. Why was Cara encouraging Richard to work things out with her? “Cara said that?” she frowned.

Richard huffed a small laugh. “Well, it was more along the lines of if I didn’t get my head out of my ass, I didn’t deserve you, but yeah. Back after we argued by the lake,” he added more solemnly.

Right before Cara had decided to bond herself to Kahlan. She hid her smile behind her hand. 

“I thought a lot while we were apart,” he continued. “About the things you said to me. And I’m ready to be what you need.”

“Richard…”

“And I know,” he cut off, “you are worried about Shota’s prophecy. But I think what the Sisters of the Light found, shows that those fears are unfounded. Seeker and Confessor. We are destined to be together.”

“Richard.” Kahlan moved her hand from her mouth, to wipe over her eyes. “You don’t even believe in prophecy. But you have jumped on what the Sisters of the Light have told you because, why? Because you think it tells you what you want to hear? You can’t dismiss Shota just because you don’t like her.”

“I’m sorry Kahlan. I will never trust her.”

Kahlan pinched the bridge of her nose, then folded her hands in front of her. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. If she is lying to try and manipulate us, then…”

“No, Richard. It doesn’t matter.” She looked at him intently. “We are not going to be together.”

He paused a long moment, confusion taking over his features. “I know you are concerned. We will be careful. I’m sure Zedd can help us.”

Kahlan’s heart clenched, knowing the words she was about to speak would break the Seeker’s heart. She pushed her own hand out to sit next to his on the table. “This is not about children. I don’t love you, Richard. At least not like that.” 

Richard frowned and shook his head. “ _Of course_ you do. What… Kahlan,” he choked out. “Our love is so powerful it even overcame Confession. _You love me_.”

She let out another long sigh. She may as well tell him. “You can’t be confessed because you are a Rahl, Richard. If Dennee tried to confess you, it would be the same.”

“What are you talking about, I love you Kahlan.” He was beginning to sound desperate.

“And I am not questioning that, but it is the Rahl bond that protected you.”

“Darken Rahl took a potion.”

“He apparently took several potions over the years, in his paranoia, that doesn’t change the facts.”

Richard looked angry now. “Facts you got from where? Your precious Mord-Sith? How can you trust them so blindly? One of them tried to _kill you!”_

“I know it may not seem so to you right now, but the Mord-Sith have put far more faith in me. You have no idea the power they have trusted me with.”

The Seeker waved his hands furiously in front of his face. “That doesn’t mean they _know_ anything about _us._ Zedd said it was our love, do you not trust your friend _the First Wizard_ now?”

“I asked Zedd his opinion, and he agreed.”

Richard’s gaze fell to the floor. She could see him fighting back his anger. His voice was small. “You doubted my love so much, you had to check?”

“I asked because I wanted it to be true,” she said honestly. “Because someday I hoped I could still be with the person I love.”

His eyes returned to her, full of pain and accusation. “But that person isn’t me?”

“I’m sorry, Richard. You are good, and kind, and I love you so very much. But I am not _in love_ with you.”

Several emotions flashed across the Seeker’s face, and then he was on his feet, pacing. “I don’t believe this. After all we have been through. You just need to remember.” He shook his head frantically. “I never should have separated from you.” His eyes came back to her. “We just need to spend more time together Kahlan. Ever since my return, it hasn’t been the same. It is too hard to be _us_ with all these strangers around.”

“They are not strangers,” Kahlan said softly. “And they are becoming very important to me.”

“More important than me, apparently.”

“Richard,” she admonished with a head tilt. “We have spent much of the last two years together; you have to know how much you mean to me.”

“Exactly Kahlan! We spent two years together. _Together._ That doesn’t just go away.”

“Please sit back down.” She looked up at him with sad eyes as he complied, then she reached across the table for his hand. “I know this is hard to understand. But before I met you, there was no one. My Sister Confessors, yes, but that is it. And by no one, I mean _no one_ , Richard. Not a lover, not a friend, not even a person who would sit down at a table for a cup of tea without fear reflecting back at me through their eyes.” Kahlan offered the Seeker a tight-lipped smile. “And then you came along, and you were so fearless, and caring.”

Richard sneered. “Are you trying to tell me it wasn’t real?”

“Of course not,” she squeezed his fingers. “But you are so _good_ and I was so caught up in it all, in the possibility of actually _having_ love. I didn’t stop to think about what I want or need from it.”

“What you want or need?” Frustration poured out of Richard as he took his hand back. “We _love_ each other, and we can _be_ together. Even if you are right about the reason,” he snarled again. “What we have, its once in a lifetime, Kahlan, do you really think you can find that again?”

Kahlan didn’t think this was the best time to tell the Seeker, that yes, indeed she did think that. In fact, she had already found something so much deeper, and meaningful, and sure she hadn’t figured out the logistics of it yet, but Keeper be damned, she was going to find a way. Instead, she said, “even if I don’t, it would be wrong and unfair to both of us, to be with you just because we can be intimate.”

Richard folded his arms and kicked at one of the empty crates that acted as chairs. “You can’t tell me that you don’t love me.”

“I do Richard. Very much. Just not in the way you want.”

And then the conversation started going in circles. Richard would throw out some memory as proof of their love. A reason why they belonged together. A reason why he could give her the future she wanted. Everything from being a great father to their yet to exist daughters, to the standing of the Seeker strengthening the Midlands alliance. Then back to pleading her for a chance to prove he can support her in her duty. 

And in the midst of his frustration, he would take random shots at the foolishness of trusting the Mord-Sith. She was trying to be patient. But it was starting to wear on her.

“You are as bad as Cara. You haven’t thought this through!”

The mention of Cara cut through her emotional exhaustion and her face fell flat. “What are you talking about?”

“Kahlan. You haven’t spent a day in your seat that wasn’t as a torn version of yourself. And on your first day, you are going to walk into Aydindril with a herd of Mord-Sith in toe?”

She meant the part about Cara, but he was on a full tirade now.

“You are going to put your reputation at risk for _them_?” He pointed at the mended tear in the tent wall. “They tried to kill you.”

“One woman,” she shot back, “that was not bound to me, tried to kill me. And stopped by another. And that is not the first time a Mord-Sith has saved my life.”

The Seeker wasn’t hearing it. “You think that will matter to the council? How many Midlanders have they killed? How many of their children have they stolen?”

She stood up, slamming her hand on the table. “Enough Richard. You sit here and tell me out of one side of your mouth, that you can be the one to stand by me, while out of the other side constantly questioning my decision.”

“I am only looking out for you,” he defended. “I didn’t think you’d want blind faith.”

“No, but _some_ faith would be nice.” She pushed both hands over her face and into her hair, and she let out a long breath. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Sometimes I think you would have preferred I stayed torn.”

“ _Of course not_.” The Seeker was on his feet now too.

“No?” she looked at him sternly. “I think that is the _part_ of me you love. The part that just wants to skip off into the woods, be in love and have a family. You don’t love _all_ of me Richard.” She swept her arm out to encompass the camp. “You don’t love this.” 

Richard gestured towards the flap of the tent, his eyes imploring her to understand. “That is not _you._ That is what you are _doing_.”

“It’s the same thing,” Kahlan said softly. “And the fact you don’t understand that, is why this doesn’t work.”

A look of shear pain and defeat melted onto the Seeker’s face. “Kahlan. I love you.”

“I love you too, Richard.” She could feel tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It felt like marks before they were finally done. She tried comforting the Seeker. Holding his hand, rubbing his back, hugging him through his tears. But in the end, she left him in the tent with his head slumped in his hands, still mumbling that in time she would change her mind and see.

Tear stained and emotionally spent, she stepped into the dim flickering light of the fires now illuminating camp. The sun must have gone down some time ago. Feeling numb, Kahlan hardly noticed the sympathetic look from Nyda who was watching the entrance. Her eyes sought out only one other set of eyes. Eyes that were already looking back at her, from where they had been left marks ago when her and Richard stepped into the tent.

Even from a distance, Cara must have sensed her distress, because she was instantly on her feet, her brow furrowing ever deeper as Kahlan approached.

“What happened?” The Mord-Sith’s eyes danced between her face and the tent. 

Kahlan clasped her hands together and inspected them as she spoke. “I talked to Richard. I told him that he and I… that we will never…” Words faltered and tears began anew. “I hurt him so bad,” she breathed out. Her pleading eyes rose up to meet Cara’s. “I had to.”

Cara gave a sharp, almost imperceptible nod, then she was being pulled in, strong arms wrapping her tight. Kahlan sank into it. Sliding her arms around Cara’s waist. Resting her head on Cara’s shoulder. Breathing in the scent of leather, fresh air and lye, that always seemed to cling to the Mord-Sith and just _calmed_ her. 

“It will be okay,” Cara whispered.

And for that moment, everything was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the most fun of chapters, I probably could have gone on with that fight a lot longer, but like Kahlan, I was done!  
> But Richard has been told now, so barrier removed! Sorta, maybe, 😅
> 
> I thought a lot about Kahlan's Confessor power, and how it is based in love and how overpowering it is. And I thought it would likely result in some changes in how the bond worked. So hey, she can feel memories now.
> 
> We are coming close to the end! I can't say for sure how many chapters are left, because I haven't written them, and sometimes things come out a lot longer, or a lot shorter than I expect. Minimum 2 more. Probably 3. Maybe 4. But really who knows.   
> But don't fret! I have already begun mapping out a continuation to our saga! 
> 
> Thank you all again for joining me on this journey! And thank you so much for leaving Kudos and Comments!


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay of this chapter. It was not for lack of trying, but something unexpected came up this week and has been taking up my time. It has been a little hard to focus on writing for any period of time, so hopefully this doesn't feel too disjointed as a result. Also I only half-ass edited this, so I might come back and take another look at it when things settle, but I wanted to get you out a chapter now.

The world looked the same as it did two days prior. They were on the same slow march southwards, through the same endless expanse of trees, with the same birds singing their same songs in the same late summer heat. But to Cara, everything was different.

For as long as she had been travelling with the Seeker and the Mother Confessor, they were never not the Seeker _and_ the Mother Confessor. Yes, Kahlan had several times over the past months, insisted Richard was her past, not her future. And it wasn’t so much that Cara didn’t believe her, more that she didn’t _dare_ believe her.

She had spent too many hours on the road and around campfires watching those two dote over each other. Even as time and time again Kahlan had told her she did not want a life with Richard, after what she had seen with her own eyes, it felt too good to be true. Like somewhere a lever would be pulled, or a curtain drawn, and it would be announced all an act, or a mistake.

Never did that fear threaten to crush her more than when she saw Kahlan and Richard disappear into the tent. By some cruel twist of fate or wind, Richard’s assurance of his love carried across the camp to where she had been tending to her weapons. Moments later they ducked out of sight.

The next several marks of _sitting and waiting_ were more torturous than her entire breaking. She knew the conversation happening in that tent. She just had no idea how it was going. Spelled D’haran command tents muffled the noise, so unless you were right up against it, you could not hear a thing. And Nyda standing guard at the entrance was far too professional to let any of it show.

Marks went by and her mind started to wander to the worse. Had Richard successfully made his case? He did say he was now willing to stay in Aydindril. Be what Kahlan needed. Had she decided he could be? Where they now consummating their reunion?

Cara knew she spent the entirety of the evening staring at the tent flap. She knew it would not go unnoticed. She couldn’t bring herself to care. It felt like her entire life hung on what was happening behind those canvass walls.

Then Kahlan emerged. Only Kahlan. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she didn’t have time to think about it, because _Kahlan was upset._

When the Confessor told her what happened, she could only hold her in sort of a numb disbelief. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there. Long past the point of Kahlan’s tears drying. Cara just let her take what comfort she needed. The usual urge to push away the emotional act never came. 

Eventually a tap on her shoulder took her attention. She looked back to find Berdine with a knowing glint in her eye, but offering a cup of tea, so she could live for now. Settling for an eyeroll, Cara took it and handed it to the Confessor, urging her to sit down in front of the fire, against the fallen hemlock she had been using as a backrest. 

The moment Cara sat beside her, Kahlan’s head was on her shoulder. They didn’t speak. Only sat side by side looking into the flames. Ultimately, Kahlan’s emotional fatigue got the best of her and she fell asleep, still leaning against Cara’s side. She gently took the half empty mug from the Confessor’s hands and let her rest.

Cara did not sleep that night.

In the morning, Kahlan blushed, embarrassed and apologized. 

“It’s fine,” Cara mumbled as she got to her feet and stretched out a night of keeping still, trying not to disturb the Confessor. “You obviously needed it.”

Kahlan smiled at her brightly and Cara couldn’t hold the gaze, somewhat awkwardly dismissing herself to go in search of breakfast.

Richard had emerged from the tent only a half mark before that. Perhaps he had fallen asleep in his grief. He looked hallow and lost, and Cara had to push back a wave of something that might be described as guilt. She didn’t move though. Even has he caught her eye with a pained frown, before wandering off in the other direction and disappearing into the trees.

At one point she wondered if he was coming back. He didn’t emerge again until camp had been broken and the horses saddled. The Seeker spent most of the day lagging alone at the back of the party, and disappeared again as soon as they made camp. 

Kahlan looked pale and sad as she slowly ate her dinner. Clearly, she was going to need Cara to stay near her again. That night she gave up her futile attempt to banish her misgivings about Aydindril with distance, and returned to the Confessor’s bed. 

The next morning, Richard had done a complete turnabout. Cara rose early, as usual, to track down some fresh game to compliment their dry stores. But the Seeker had beaten her to it. He must have set a number of traps the night before and risen with the sun, to already have eight good sized hares skinned and roasting over the fire.

When Kahlan appeared a half mark after Cara, Richard met her with a humble smile and a proclamation there was enough for _everyone_. Cara rolled her eyes inwardly. Of course, the Seeker wasn’t just going to _give up_. 

Kahlan thanked him with a smile of her own, but Cara had spent enough time looking at the Confessor to see the forced strain pulling at the lines around her mouth. Whatever Richard was trying to sell, Kahlan wasn’t buying.

But at least the Seeker wasn’t moping anymore. Back riding in the thick of the group, he even went full woods guide, and spent a mark of the ride talking Hannah’s ear off about the best use of each type of tree they passed. Cara could only imagine he chose Hannah out of some false sense of camaraderie from their little mission. Or maybe Richard somehow noticed Hannah was one of the few Mord-Sith polite enough not to tell him to cram it. 

Richard’s last-ditch attempt to get back into Kahlan’s good graces, even had him partaking in a rare evening meal with the Mord-Sith. Berdine gave him a double-take as she sauntered into the ring of feasting Sisters with her face buried in a Journey Book. The brunette stopped in front of her and looked at her expectantly. Cara huffed and shuffled down the log to make room for her to sit next to Kahlan. 

“Mother Confessor,” she held out the book for her to see. “The First Wizard has solved it. He has found a scroll containing the description of the Original Grace.”

“The Original Grace?” Kahlan’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I’ve heard of that.”

“Well,” Berdine explained. “There is a reason they are call the Pillars of Creation.”

Kahlan nodded, “because that is where the Creator is said to have made the world.”

“Yes, and apparently, in doing so, she burned a Grace into the very rocks of the earth. A Grace which the Ancient Temple was built upon.” Berdine flipped the book back a few pages to where Zedd had sketched the catacombs. Lines were appearing over it even as she spoke. “The Wizard Zorander has enlisted the help of a mapmaker, and they are using the dimensions he discovered for the Grace, and outlining the surrounding area.”

“That is fantastic, Berdine.”

“So, we will be able to find a backdoor, and avoid a head on engagement with Rahl’s force,” the Seeker perked up with a hopeful smile. 

Berdine shook her head cautiously. “Hopefully. But you must remember these tunnels are thousands of years old. Even if we find one, they might not still be in tact.”

“We’ll find one,” he reaffirmed. 

Kahlan was about to reply, but instead put her bowl down in her lap and steadied herself with a hand on Berdine’s knee. Berdine held her arm in support. Cara was half way to pulling her Agiel at the unseen attack, when the Confessor was waving a hand at her. “More just bonded.”

Berdine and Cara exchanged a look. 

“How many?” Cara asked, noting the overly friendly look the Seeker had worn most of the day had been wiped away.

“A lot at once. I don’t know,” Kahlan shook her head. “It was like last time.”

“It has been about a fortnight since the Northern Temple bonded to you, Mother Confessor,” Raina offered from across the fire. “Someone could have easily reached the nearest temple to the south-west in that time.”

Cara hooked a brow. “You think Solvig’s gone recruiting?”

“It looks that way,” Raina smiled.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Seeker quietly withdraw from the fire.

\----------------

Cara lay on her back, arms at her side, next to the Confessor who was curled up in a ball, facing away from her. But instead of trying to sleep, she was doing math. 

Considering the People’s Palace, two Temples, and a Sister chasing down Constance, by her count Kahlan had upwards of sixty Mord-Sith now bonded to her. And that led her to two more thoughts. One, there weren’t a lot of Mord-Sith left. Weeks back Berdine had commented how Rahl had used them expendably during his quest for more power, and it seems that had indeed taken its toll. 

There was still the Temple near Stowecroft, and the one in the south. But Rahl had emptied that one, and their current numbers and location were a huge question mark. It is possible the Mord-Sith had dwindled to half their ranks. 

Secondly, _Kahlan had_ _sixty Mord-Sith_ bonded to her. 

She was really doing this. Kahlan had earned the trust and respect of the Mord-Sith in this camp. Mord-Sith that carry a lot of weight and respect within the order. There was no doubt in Cara’s mind they would continue to follow the Mother Confessor after Rahl was defeated, and the other Sisters would eventually make their way to them, and do the same. 

They were all going back to Aydindril. _She_ was going back to Aydindril. And Kahlan _would_ have to deal with the fallout of that.

“Kahlan?” She whispered so softly that even if the Confessor was awake, it would have been hard for her to hear. She cursed herself a coward, then called again a little louder. “Kahlan?”

“Mmm?” a sleepy voice replied.

Cara continued to stare directly at the roof of the tent, not answering right away. She could hear the Confessor rolling over on her back. “What is it Cara?”

“Do you…” She let out a long breath and started again. “We are almost done here. One way or another. And then we will be returning to Aydindril.”

“Yes,” Kahlan hesitated. “As long as that is what you want?”

“It is,” Cara replied, then scowled at herself for answering so quickly. She could _feel_ Kahlan’s smile through the dark. She shook it off. “I am sure you have considered that this will not be well met.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “I mean, Mord-Sith. In Aydindril.” 

Kahlan was quiet a few beats before she replied. “I have.”

Cara was tempted to just accept that, roll over and go to sleep. Kahlan was an intelligent woman after all. She had always thought through her decisions, weighed their consequences. But she still found herself quietly asking, “and you are sure it will be worth the cost?” In the back of her mind, she recognized she was only half talking about her Sisters. 

“It will.” Fingers gently brushed across the back of her hand, sending a shiver up Cara’s arm and down her spine. “I have no doubt.”

Cara swallowed thickly, and when the Confessor started to pull her hand away, she found herself moving hers over it to trap it against the mattress. Kahlan’s fingers were warm and smooth under her own. The simple touch was enough to set her entire body on fire. She suddenly realized she had no plan for what she was doing. She scrambled to find words. “Are you… How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Kahlan sighed. “I’m sad that Richard is hurting. And a little frustrated that he is still _trying._ But there is nothing I can do for that. He needed to hear the truth. And it had to be done before I could move forward.”

A deafening silence followed. Cara coughed to cut it. “Well, if you need… you know, anything.” She paused to huff at her own stumbling. “I am here,” she finally finished.

Kahlan slowly turned her hand over so their palms were crossed, then gently squeezed her fingers. “I know.” Then the Confessor was twisting back onto her side. Only this time facing Cara, where she promptly buried her head into Cara’s ribs. “Goodnight Cara,” she whispered.

“Goodnight Confessor,” she forced out, noting Kahlan was still grasping onto her hand. It was a good thing Mord-Sith didn’t need much sleep, she thought, because it just didn’t seem to be in the cards these days. Instead, she spent the next mark trying to figure out at exactly what point she had been Confessed.

\-----------------

The next morning when Cara stepped out of the tent to hunt, she was greeted with yet another curious sight. Namely every single one of the Mord-Sith, standing shoulder to shoulder in a line. She eyed them cautiously as she tightened the last of the ties on the side of her leathers. 

Hally headed that line with a bright smile.

Cara hooked a brow. “Do I even want to know?”

“The Mother Confessor is going to test us with the bond,” Hally explained. 

“You know, if you are done snuggling,” Rikka piped in from beside her, leading to a chorus of snickers from the line. 

Cara banked the names of the culprits, but offered no other response. She returned her attention to Hally. “And is the Mother Confessor _aware_ of this?”

“Not yet,” the young blonde grinned back. “I figured it was best not to give her time to talk herself out of it.” 

Cara rolled her eyes. Though it was true. 

“It is not too much to ask to connect with us and ensure we are all truly bonded,” Hally argued.

She did not disagree. Though she had a feeling Kahlan might.

“And we are going to start saying a daily devotion.”

Both Cara’s eyebrows went skyward at that. “Kahlan is not going to want you mindlessly chanting for her.”

Berdine stepped forward from her place beside Rikka, shaking her head. “I am certain the hours of droning were another Rahl perversion, or perhaps just paranoia. Everything I’ve read in the book I gave to the Mother Confessor, only indicates a regular affirmation is required to keep the bond healthy. So, we will recognize it once a day, every day.”

Cara’s eyes shifted up and down the line. Even Hania was there. Looking pretty uncomfortable, but she _was_ there. “What are you going to say?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Hally tilted her head to the side. “We thought she should have a vote.”

“Well have fun with that,” Cara nodded curtly, shouldered her quiver and bow, and started walking down the line of Mord-Sith towards the woods.

“What? You aren’t going to stay and pronounce your devotion to your Confessor?” Rikka’s smug lilt made Cara want to turn and devote an arrow right into her Sister. She didn’t want to kill her though. At least not before they stopped Rahl. Maybe just an arm.

“Nah,” Berdine raised her far too happy voice to ensure it would still reach her as she moved away. “Cara prefers to propel her devotions through cuddles.”

Both arms for Berdine. 

\---------------

It had been another endlessly hot day of riding. The further south they travelled, the more the sun insisted on reminding them it was summer. They were about a week from the Pillars now, at their current pace. Nine days until the moon. Cara would have to steal one of the maps later and find out how much longer they had before the trees thinned out into grasslands and then back into the sands that surrounded the Pillars. 

At least Kahlan looked content. Cara hadn’t hung around to watch her ‘test’ her Sisters, but she imagined Kahlan’s initial reaction to the gesture was a mixture of touched and horrified, followed by a reluctant acceptance, which eventually melted into a general satisfaction that the Mord-Sith were coming to respect and follow her of their own accord, and not solely because a magical bond demanded it. 

Cara wasn’t sure which boggled her mind more. How much time Kahlan spent worry about the feelings of Mord-Sith, or how much her Sisters seemed to worry about the feelings of the Confessor… well, of anybody really. 

When they were done with Rahl she was going to have to put them through their paces, before Kahlan made them too soft. Plus, it would give her an opportunity for payback and remind her Sisters that certain disrespectful comments would not be forgotten. She smirked to herself. 

Though now that she thought about it, setting out a proper and public training regime once they returned to Aydindril could have further benefits. It could display to the people of the city her Sisters’ professionalism and dedication to their new home. As well, begin to tear down the fear and mythos, the secrecy of their order once sought to foster. Whatever they could do to help make their settling in easier on Kahlan. 

She glanced over her shoulder to check on the Confessor again. Richard was recounting some tale of Zedd and a rack of lamb, and proclaiming his excitement to get back with him so they could all finally take a meal together at the infamous Ambrosios. 

Kahlan was nodding along, smiling politely. When she noticed Cara looking, her smiled brightened.

Cara frowned. Kahlan laughed. 

She returned her attention forward. 

Cara was still reeling a little from the night before. It had felt so much more intimate than a touch of a hand should feel. Like a promise of things to come. Kahlan had once told her that she couldn’t worry about the future until they ended Rahl. Just after she had found her note to Zedd about Confession.

She still thought Kahlan was worried far too much about that. Yes, there was a serious logistical constraint to consider, but she had pondered on the issue once or twice, and was sure a little creativity, speed, and flexibility could work around it. Perhaps because of her inexperience, Kahlan just couldn’t see it. Cara of course, would be happy to demonstrate.

She realized she was smirking again, and schooled her features. 

It had to be what Kahlan wanted though. And she would wait for the Confessor to be sure. To come to her. If their duty to stop Rahl was holding Kahlan back, hopefully that wait would be at an end soon. If it was something else, well, Cara was kidding herself if she tried to say she wouldn’t wait for Kahlan to get over that too.

She wondered again if she hadn’t been Confessed. Perhaps in Dunshire? Maybe she didn’t notice because she was half dead from the lack of oxygen.

She felt a presence staring, and slowly turned her head to the side. Hally was watching her with a bemused smirk.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Hally shook her head with a grin. “Just enjoying the pantomime.”

She scowled. Hally’s only reaction was to glanced briefly to Kahlan, then back to her, before returning her eyes to the road ahead. Then Hally frowned.

Cara followed her gaze. Ahead of them in the woods stood a quad of Mord-Sith. The column of riders was already coming to a halt in front of them. She recognized some of the waiting Sisters, and a quick look to Rikka confirmed these were indeed amongst those Rahl had taken with him from the southern Temple. 

She was off her horse in a flash and pushing to the front of the procession. Something was off though. Even Mord-Sith committed to die carrying out their orders, wouldn’t be dumb enough to just wait around to be spotted. “Watch the forest,” she barked at her Sisters. Of course, they would already be doing so. But it made her feel better to say it.

“Relax Mistress Cara.” A Mord-Sith she recognized as Erica stepped forward and spoke for the group, completely unconcerned that several bows were levelled at her by the soldiers in the front. “We are not here to cause trouble.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she waved an Agiel at them. “What do you want, and be quick if you don’t want to be dead.”

Erica sneered at the threat. “We are here to serve the Lord Rahl.”

Cara was not surprised to see Richard materialize at her side, sword drawn, ready to attack. “I reject the title of Lord Rahl,” he announced. “I do not want your service.”

Confused glances passed between the Mord-Sith. Erica shook her head. “You are not the Lord Rahl,” she stated.

“Yes, I, no. No, I’m not,” he agreed.

Cara rolled her eyes and interrupted before Richard hurt himself. It was obvious what brought them here. “You are not looking for a Lord Rahl.”

But the Mord-Sith were now looking past her. She glanced over her shoulder. Kahlan, with her own daggers drawn, was coming up on her other side. 

Erica frowned. “Who are you?”

“ _Who are you?”_ the Confessor demanded back.

As if realizing she was in the presence of her soon to be authority figure, the Mord-Sith straightened and gave a slight bow of the head. “I am Mistress Erica.” She waved a hand behind her, “This is Mistress Kirsten, Mistress Jessica and Mistress Mila. We are all that is left of the southern Temple.”

The day was getting long, so after Erica’s pronouncement, the decision was made to stop and make camp for the night. All around them tents were going up, the horses were being unsaddled and wood was being gathered for the evening fires. 

Slight looks of surprise were exchanged by the new arrivals as Rikka wandered up to join their group, now consisting of herself, Kahlan, Berdine, and of course, not to be left out, Richard. A few soldiers still stood nearby with their arrows ready, in case something went sideways.

“You’re a long way from home,” Erica commented.

Rikka smirked, “and you are a long way from Rahl.”

Erica’s face twisted bitterly. “I should have put my Agiel to his heart.” Cara watched her eyes fall to the ground in shame. 

Naturally, Kahlan was there with a calming hand on the Mord-Sith’s arm. “Please tell us what happened. Rikka says there should have been twenty of you.”

Erica scowled at the offending hand, but offered no other complaint. Cara wondered if now would be a good time to tell her that Kahlan was the Mother Confessor. By the smirk pulling on the corner of Rikka’s mouth, she was thinking the same. 

The Mord-Sith straightened and tossed her long honey-blonde braid back over her shoulder with a headshake. She was all business now. “After Rahl took us from the Temple, we captured a sorceress then travelled east to the Boundary of the Old World.” 

They knew this already, but it was a good sign she was going to be honest with them. 

“How did you control the sorceress?” Kahlan asked. “We have encountered her before and know she wields immense power.”

“Even with immense power, twenty Mord-Sith could have kept her in line,” the Sister boasted. “But it was unnecessary. Rahl had a Rada’Han.”

“So, he had been planning this for a while,” Richard noted.

Kahlan however, looked suddenly distracted. “Rahl has a Rada’Han,” she whispered.

“No.” Cara couldn’t stop it before it came out of her mouth. She frowned at Kahlan, but the Confessor was busy staring off at nothing. 

“Yes,” Erica looked confused as she glanced in between them. Richard also looked confused. Cara didn’t even want to know what was on Rikka or Berdine’s faces. She was sure their minds went the same direction as hers. 

Kahlan shook herself out of her stupor. “Sorry, then what happened?”

Cara was still scowling. For her or anybody else, there was no way in hell a Rada’Han was ever going around the Confessor’s neck. 

“When we got to the Boundary,” the Mord-Sith continued, “Lord Rahl had us release the witch so she could cut a hole in the barrier.”

“How many days of torture did it take you to get her to do that?” Berdine asked.

“None,” Erica replied. “The Lord Rahl ordered us to kill her if she wouldn’t.”

Rikka shook her head, “and she just went along with that? It seems counter intuitive. She had something Rahl wanted, he wasn’t just going to kill her, no matter what he said.”

“Well,” Kahlan explained. “She did betray the Keeper, so she is highly motivated not to die. And Nicci is as savvy as she is powerful. She was probably banking on being needed again and waiting for a chance to escape.”

“Indeed, she was,” Erica agreed solemnly. “We collared her again as soon as we passed through, but the boundary is an endless wasteland from the Great Wizards War. Rogue spells were everywhere. Some so powerful the Sisters could not repel them.” She shook her head. “We started losing some of the peasants we brought to carry Rahl’s sand. Then we lost a couple Sisters. The further in we moved, the worse it got and Rahl refused to turn back. Eventually we were forced to let Nicci off her leash to try to protect us, and that is when all hell broke loose.”

Cara thought she had never seen a Sister so visibly upset. At least in public. 

She took a deep breath and went on. “The witch reflected some of the spells, but took advantage of us needing to watch ourselves, her, and the Lord Rahl, and started attacking us as well. We had to defend against her, but not kill her and keep her from running off. By the time we found enough of that precious dirt, got Nicci under control again and got out, we had lost fifteen.”

She paused another moment, and the weight settled onto Cara’s shoulders. She looked to Berdine and Rikka as they exchanged a somber gaze. 

“I’m so sorry,” Kahlan broke the silence. “I can’t imagine how it felt to lose so many of your Sisters like that.”

“They died for the Lord Rahl. Its what we do.” Erica recited the Mord-Sith party line, but she didn’t sound like her heart was in it.

“Not anymore.” It was Rikka who declared it, and Berdine gave a curt nod of agreement.

“I’m sorry,” Kahlan said again, “but I have to ask. You said you started with twenty, and there are four of you here. Is one of your Sisters still with Rahl?”

Erica shook her head, and the other’s behind her shuffled uncomfortably. “No.”

Kahlan only waited for her to explain.

“After we left the Boundary, we were met by a large contingency of Dragon Corp. We moved to the Pillars of Creation, where Rahl set the civilians and some of the soldiers to digging. It was quiet for a while. Then about a month ago we felt something change with the bond.” She frowned and tilted her head, “I suppose that was you?”

“Yes,” Kahlan nodded. “And you will get an explanation, but please, finish your tale first. I assume you told your Lord Rahl.”

Erica let out a noisy breath. “No.”

“Really,” Cara found herself asking, “you held back information from the Lord Rahl?”

Erica scowled. “Did you not _kill_ the Lord Rahl?”

Cara huffed. “I didn’t _kill_ him, I merely set in motion the events that led to his death.” She felt a playful shove in her back from Rikka. “And I was not judging you, I was simply surprised,” she muttered.

“Well after he threw so many of our lives away it was almost a relief to feel the bond pulling us in another direction.” Erica glanced over her shoulder at her Sisters. “Kirsten and I began to indirectly discuss whether our loyalties were in the right place. If there was an option that was not Darken Rahl, could it really be any worse? Was taking the risk of leaving him, really a risk if we would all end up frivolously dead in his drive for power?”

“And what was it that finally made you leave?” Kahlan asked.

“About a fortnight ago, there were reports of Sisters of the Dark in the area. Lord Rahl decided their power would be a nice addition to that which he was to take from Nicci. And he sent us to capture as many as we could.” Erica curled her fingers into a fist. “We killed seven in the fighting. Took two alive, a couple more escaped. But Mistress Angie was killed. All so _Lord Rahl_ ,” she spat his name, “could have the Han of two women the witch Nicci could crush with a twitch of her finger?” She shook her head angrily. “And when we returned with only two, he was angry and punished us.”

“But Darken Rahl doesn’t have the bond,” Richard observed at the worst possible moment.

“There is more than one way to delve out punishment, Seeker,” she sneered. “After that, we had enough. We could feel the power of this new bond getting closer, and we struck out to find it.” Erica turned her gaze on Kahlan. “But we didn’t find what we were expecting.”

“My name is Kahlan Amnell. I am the Mother Confessor, and Lady Amnell to those of your Sisters who choose it.” Kahlan smiled softly. “Come and refresh yourselves. We will eat and talk some more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The description of the random magic in the Boundary is taken from the books. 
> 
> Thank you for your support, kudos and comments.  
> I passed 10000 hits last chapter and 600 Kudos, and I am going to pass 150000 words with this one. Two milestones I did not see coming when I started writing.
> 
> If another chapter doesn't appear in the coming days, please do not fret, I will not forget you. I still hope to have part 1 finished before the end of the month.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for your support and your patience. This, like the last chapter, was written in a lot of chunks, and hopefully flows better for you than it felt coming out.
> 
> Sorry for the delay. But life sometimes does life things.

The ride to the town of Brabant had been a nice break. Both from the rising tension from the dwindling days and distance to Rahl, and yet _another_ argument with Richard. As horrible as it sounded, Kahlan was starting to hope the Seeker would indeed return to the Westland after they were finished with their mission. He was not happy, and he was never going to be if he continued following her around, waiting for her to come back to him. 

That was never going to happen. Her heart was firmly elsewhere. 

Reflexively she looked back at Cara, who had her own neck craned around to check on the horse she had tethered to follow her mount. When her eyes came forward again, a brow arched in question when she saw Kahlan watching her. Kahlan’s only response was to smile. Cara’s forehead furrowed as if she were going to scowl, but then her lip twitched up, and she quickly turned to check on the rope again.

Kahlan couldn’t help feel she had somehow just won something, as she returned her own attention to the trail ahead.

When they realized there was a town only a couple marks from their camp, they made the decision to set out to find horses for the newly arrived Mord-Sith. 

This was the source of the argument with Richard. They were a week from the Pillars, with two days riding to spare before the moon, if they continued at their current rate of travel. Fetching horses would cost half a day off of that time. But having horses for everyone would ensure if the pace needed to be increased, it would be easier to do so. Also, making the short trip to town would allow them to resupply before moving into the more arid grasslands, then sandy dunes surrounding the Pillars of Creation.

Besides themselves, the four Mord-Sith that had abandoned Rahl, brought with them valuable information about his position. Darken Rahl had indeed thought about an attempt by the Seeker and Mother Confessor to stop him. But he did not believe they had any clue as to where to start looking or what he was up to, and would eventually head back to Aydindril to regroup.

Instead of hunkering down with all his troops, he had sent a good chunk of them to watch the three main routes south to the Pillars. In addition to the blockade they had taken out, there were similar parties of Dragon Corp watching the road to the east of the Kern, as well as the highway they had taken to Brennidon, weeks back on their way north. 

Rahl had also sent a number of men to the nearest town in order to strong arm them into supplying his operation. At this information, Kahlan felt the bottom fall out of her stomach, and before Erica had even mentioned the name of the town, she was exchanging a solemn look with Cara. 

Less than two months ago they had been in that town, resting from their first mission to the Pillars of Creation, celebrating with its people after Cara had saved one of them. Only a second of eye contact with Cara confirmed she was onboard. As soon as they were done at the Pillars, any Dragon Corp found in Portree would pay for their trespass with their life.

Those detachments however, along with the soldiers he had been sending to run messages to D’hara and Toth’Rang, meant Rahl’s potentially overwhelming force had been widdled down significantly. 

On their way out of camp, Erica and her Sisters had also taken out any Dragon Corp scout they crossed paths with, in order to cover their tracks. By happenstance, they also killed the scout that Captain Meiffert had commandeered, and Kahlan confessed a few days prior, before he could discover they had destroyed Rahl’s blockade. She had sent him back to deliver the message that all was quiet, and to continue on with his duties until they arrived.

It would have been nice to have that extra sword in the battle when the time came, but it was a sword far less needed now that it appeared Rahl only had about forty men left with him. Hopefully the scout’s disappearance would be attributed to the Mord-Sith, and their approach would remain a surprise. 

Kahlan’s force now included herself, Cara, Richard, seventeen Mord-Sith, with the new additions, ten D’haran soldiers, and the three men from Brennidon. As well as the confessed Laurin and Dragon Corp, who’s name was Jevon. 

That put them almost at an even number of bodies, but with her side fighting _for_ something higher than a selfish despot’s quest for power. Kahlan was really starting to feel optimistic about their chances, and she could see that wave of enthusiasm and confidence wash through the already confident Mord-Sith.

That only made it all the more agitating when the Seeker was once again unsupportive of their plan. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to waste half a day getting horses,” Richard piped in.

Cara scoffed. “Did the man we waited _three extra days_ to catch up with us, just complain about wasting time?”

“That was different,” he defended. “I was helping a town in need. But if what they say is true about Rahl’s numbers, then do we really need four more Mord-Sith?”

“What that town _needs,_ ” Cara shot back, “is Rahl dead and gone for good. And if you truly believe we do not need more bodies, then I insist we take the best fighters. Choose four men to leave behind, and we will take my Sisters with us.”

Cara never had much patients for Richard’s side ventures, but over the months of their travels, began taking them in stride with an eyeroll and a deadpan. But her patients in general with the Seeker seemed to be in short supply these days, and that was showing now. 

Richard shook his head violently. “I don’t trust them.”

“There’s a shocker,” Berdine muttered from where she sat on Kahlan’s bed. She had come to discuss her and Zedd’s findings about possible back entrances to the Pillars. Captain Meiffert was on his way. But a simple declaration of intent to acquire some horses before they set out in the morning, was once again being turned into a hashing out of everything that was wrong with the Mord-Sith.

“They just got here,” he continued unperturbed; his eyes on Kahlan. “How do we know they aren’t leading us into a trap?”

Cara threw her arms in the air. “First you use their report as a basis to leave them behind, then you say we can’t trust them?”

Kahlan stepped up beside Cara and ran a hand down her back. She had taken notice that her touch could calm the feisty blonde, and had to supress the smile pulling at her lips as she watched Cara’s body language visibly ease at the action. “Richard, they all bonded to me. And these women have all known each other a long time. There is no reason to believe they are deceiving us.”

Richard ran his hands over his face. “Kahlan…”

“No, Richard,” she cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it again.”

He let out a loud breath as he paced around the tent. “There is too much riding on us getting this right Kahlan. We are running short on time. There is too much to lose, and not enough to gain by taking them with us.” Berdine let out a curt laugh, finally drawing the Seeker’s ire. “Something funny?”

The brunette looked up at him with a wry smile. “I don’t think you want to hear it, Rick.”

“It’s Richard _,_ actually.” He rolled his hand in front of him. “And please, by all means, share your wise insights.”

“Well, _Richard.”_ Berdine stood up and tossed the journey book on the table. “The Seeker of Truth, and the _true_ Lord Rahl.”

“I am _not_ the Lord Rahl,” he interrupted.

“Exactly,” Berdine agreed. “Since you have arrived, you have complained about every action taken to try and stop Darken Rahl. While all along you have had the power to end this,” she snapped her fingers, “just like that. Months ago.”

“I didn’t even know where Rahl _was_ months ago,” Richard argued.

Berdine placed both her hands on the table and leaned in. “It wouldn’t have mattered _Lord Rahl_ , because if you had just manned the hell up and claimed the bond, your brother would have lost all his support. With no Mord-Sith and no Dragon Corp, where would he be right now? In hiding or dead. Yet you are here criticizing every decision of those who had the guts to stand up and make the hard choices.”

“That’s an oversimplification.” The Seeker threw his hands up. “You aren’t following Rahl now, am I really supposed to believe you would have followed me?”

“They would have,” Kahlan found herself answering for Berdine. Richard looked at her a little betrayed. “And not only because of the bond. They chose to follow _me,_ Richard. _A Confessor_. That is how badly they wished to be free of that life.”

The Seeker waved his hand at Cara. “She walked away from _that life_ without me imposing some archaic control over her. Rahl does not control the bond. Their lives have been their own for some time, and they chose to live the same.”

Kahlan gestured at Cara as well. “Yes, and she was so afraid of being subjected to that life again she took an unproven magic just for a chance to escape it!” 

“ _She_ is right here you know,” Cara muttered with a scowl. “And I was not _afraid._ Just smart enough to get out while the getting was good.”

Kahlan toss her a soft look and noted how the Mord-Sith’s scowl morphed into something a little less angry, and a little more ‘why are you looking at me like that, stop it.’ Only Cara would have an entire catalogue of glares. Kahlan could feel the corner of her lip twitch, which compelled Cara’s brow to furrow deeper.

Meanwhile, the Seeker’s eyes also narrowed, and his lip curled. “So, you are saying this is my fault? You think I should have become the Lord Rahl?”

Kahlan sighed. “What I am saying is, that a lot of difficult decisions were made to get us to this point, by a lot of people. But look at where we are Richard.” She gestured emphatically at the tent wall. “Only because we have come together, we found Rahl, and have a real chance of stopping him before he becomes something unstoppable. So, it would be nice if for once, you didn’t tear into everything we do like we’re about to hand the world over to the Keeper!”

Richard looked as if he had been slapped. He glanced at the journey book sitting on the table, then back to Kahlan. “I will leave you to it then,” he said quietly, then swiftly exited the tent.

Kahlan ran her hand over her face at the memory, and pulled her waterskin from the saddle bag for a drink. She would talk to him when they got back, before they started moving again. She did not mean to make Richard feel attacked. And only after the fact she realized her remark about the Keeper may have sounded too close to blame for handing the Stone of Tears over to the Master of the Underworld.

Richard had already been noticeably uncomfortable as the newly arrived Mord-Sith had taken their vows and bonded to her. It probably didn’t help that Kahlan had not only explained who she was and how she came to hold the bond, but who Richard was as well. 

But it had always been important to her that she build this union with the Mord-Sith on trust. Something they were never given or asked for in their relationship with their previous Lord. Only obedience. And that meant being honest about the fact there was indeed a Lord Rahl, who if they remained bonded to, would likely never do more than ask you to leave him alone. 

They did not hesitate to choose her, and she could only imagine the thoughts that sent through the Seeker’s mind. So, he was already on edge before the argument.

She only wished Richard could show the same faith that she had given him over their years dealing with Orden and the Stone. She and Cara had accomplished so much out of nothing. They were going to see this through successfully. End Rahl for good. And out of it all, managed to create something good. Why Richard couldn’t see that was beyond her.

She wiped the sweat from the afternoon heat from her neck and glanced around at the small escort travelling back with her from the town. A mixture of soldiers and Mord-Sith. Fortunately, Richard was not around to argue the merits of taking Mord-Sith with her into a town to procure supplies and horses when they left at first light.

But she had decided if the Mord-Sith were to be a part of her future, the people may as well start getting used to seeing them working side by side with the Mother Confessor. Cara’s reputation of fighting at their side had apparently made the rounds. Slowly, hopefully, they could begin chipping away at the fear and mistrust.

It was good for the Mord-Sith as well, Kahlan thought. To get them interacting with people in a way that did not involve intimidation or violence. Though perhaps they had a lot of work to do on the intimidation part. Rikka’s discerning gaze even scared the chickens back into their coops when they went by a farm to see about the horses.

Kahlan had brought six Mord-Sith with her, (at the Sister’s insistence as a minimal acceptable escort for their Lady) and two soldiers to man the supply cart. She initially left all but Cara, Rikka and Hally on the edge of town, in an attempt to not overwhelm the populous by marching in at once. She also dawned her Confessor’s dress for the first time in months, save after she had fallen in the damned river and nearly froze to death. Kahlan stole another glance at Cara, and blushed. It almost felt like a lifetime ago she had been huddled in the dark, naked against the blonde for warmth. 

She had been hesitant to put the dress on these past many weeks. Not wanting to be recognized and risk word getting back to Rahl on their whereabouts. But when the outright fear on the towns people’s faces at the sight of red leather, relaxed into an uneasy caution, she knew she had made the right move. Trust in the Mother Confessor ran deep. And though the people of Brabant were far from throwing the Mord-Sith a parade, they accepted Kahlan’s word they were there to help and under her command, and set about helping them procure their supplies and mounts.

That wasn’t to say there wasn’t a good share of distrustful and hateful looks. But the women took them in stride, and saw to their tasks professionally and without incident. Before they left town, Kahlan summoned the council to speak with them, bringing Cara and her Sisters into the town’s Council Chambers with her.

“Things are changing,” she declared, not taking the offered seat, instead pacing before the six men to better get her point across. This was not a request. This was a decree from the Mother Confessor. “We have found a way to break the magic that enslaved these women to the house of Rahl since they were taken as girls. They serve me now. They have _chosen_ to serve the Midlands.” She levelled her gaze on a councilman who looked particularly sour at this prospect. “I know trust will not come easy, and there are many wounds to heal. But they are putting their lives on the line for our collective safety and I expect them to be treated with the respect afforded any soldier of the Midlands.”

“Mother Confessor, these women have been stealing our children for generations,” the sour looking councilman snarled. “They took my cousin Janel when she was only eight. And you are asking me to what? Just trust them now?”

“No, Councilmen Hopkins, as the Mother Confessor, I am _telling_ you that they are trust worthy and to be respected. And I expect I will be heard.”

The man straightened and bowed his head. “Yes, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan softened at the difference. “Councilman Hopkins. All of you. I know my walking in here and telling you this is tantamount to declaring day is night and night is day. But you should know my duty is to the Midlands and I would not lead you astray. Darken Rahl is but a week’s ride from here, attempting to gain the power to bring the entire world under his shadow. The Mord-Sith ride with me to stop him.”

The Head Councilman stood and bowed his own head. “It will be as you say Mother Confessor.”

“Thank you.” Kahlan let out a reluctant sigh. “That said, I should warn you, though most of the Mord-Sith now serve me, you should proceed with caution, as a small number have chosen to stay on their current path.” 

“We will remain vigilant, Mother Confessor.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the Sisters waiting behind her. After they delt with Rahl, they would have to do something to distinguish the Mord-Sith who choose to stay with her. A uniform change was likely out of the question. But perhaps they would not be against wearing an insignia to mark them as her own.

That pulled a smile onto her face. She wondered if she would ever get use to the idea of _her Mord-Sith._ Or how much pride she felt in what they were doing together. 

Shortly after they dismissed themselves and headed for their mounts. 

“Mother Confessor.” Hally came up on her right side as they made their way across the town square, “a moment?”

“Of course.”

The young blonde kept her voice low. “Mistress Janel is amongst those bound to you at the People’s Palace.” Kahlan’s eyebrows rose as Hally continued. “I did not wish to say anything in front of the council, as I cannot guarantee she is one and the same as this man’s cousin, but I do know she was taken from the south many years ago, and I recall no other Sister of her name.” 

Kahlan nodded. “Thank you Hally.” Yet another matter to consider once they were finished with Rahl. She watched Cara pull herself up on her mount and thought of her reunion with Grace. Her welcome back to Stowecroft. It had been good for all those involved. Well, at least the second time. She wondered how many other Mord-Sith still had family out there. Would they want to be reunited?

Deep in thought, she almost ran straight into Rikka, when she turned to retrieve her own horse. The tall blonde was already waiting to offer her the reins. She straightened and stepped back. “Sorry Rikka, I didn’t see you there.”

The Mord-Sith looked at her steadily as she handed over the reins. “You put your reputation on the line for us.”

“You are putting your life on the line for me, Rikka, I think I can afford to reciprocate with a little faith.”

Rikka nodded her head stiffly then huffed. “I suppose I am still not used to this.”

“Me either,” Kahlan admitted with a soft smile. “But I think we’re doing a pretty good job at figuring it out.”

Rikka nodded again, turned away and began securing one of the spare horses to her own mount.

All in all, Kahlan had been happy with how the morning had gone. They had made good time, acquired four strong mounts, and enough food and clean water to last them through the dry regions near the Pillars which offered little in the way of sustenance to forage. 

About a half mark and they would be back with the group, ready to continue south. She was intent on enjoying these last moments of quiet. She missed the quiet days on the road when it was just her and Cara. And once they returned to Aydindril, duty would make quiet days all the rarer. 

Again, she wiped at the sweat beading on her neck. It wasn’t even midday and it was scorching out. At least her Confessor’s dress was a little lighter than her travelling leathers. She took another long pull of water, before attempting to cup some in her hands to splash on her face and neck, in an attempt to cool herself.

When she looked up again, Cara had come alongside her and was _staring_ intently _._ Only her gaze was fixated several inches south of her face, watching where the rivets of water trickled down her chest and disappeared under the cut of her dress.

Kahlan’s skin heated again, and this time it had nothing to do with the sun. “Thirsty?” It sounded more like a squeak than a word, so Kahlan cleared her throat and asked again. “Thirsty?” She held out her waterskin lamely. 

Green eyes popped up, looking almost surprised to find her there. Then a slow leering grin spread across her face. “It is… quite hot.” Cara pulled off her gloves and tucked them in her belt before reaching for the water. “Thank you.” Her fingers lightly brushed against Kahlan’s as she took it. The feather touch sent a spark up her arm, somehow causing a shiver in the heat.

“Well, dressed head to toe in… leather must…”

Whatever point she was going to make died on her tongue, watching Cara tilt her head back to take a drink of her own. The bob of her throat was entrancing. Kahlan felt her face heating yet again and forced her eyes forward. 

Perhaps it was for the best they began travelling with the Mord-Sith when they did. She had been finding it harder and harder every day to keep herself from crossing that dangerous line. These days she couldn’t even stop herself from curling in on Cara when they slept. And what’s more, Cara wasn’t even pretending to try and ward off her touches anymore. 

So much had changed, and if it wasn’t for the constant company and distraction of their mission…

“If you would like to cool down, there should be a stream not far from the trail. We could stop and take a quick bath.” Cara leaned in playfully. “You look like you need it.”

The mental image of her and Cara _bathing_ threatened to incinerate her. As did the amused half-curl of Cara’s lips. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“There’s a surprise, Sisters,” Rikka suddenly called out from behind, causing Kahlan to start. “Cara would like to stop for a bath.”

She wasn’t the only one, Kahlan thought. 

Cara rolled her eyes at the round of chuckles, then looked back at Kahlan like she was expecting an answer.

Unfortunately, they needed to get back. Kahlan was tempted to offer a rain check, but the thumping of hooves drew her attention back to the trail ahead. She could see two red leathered figures riding through the brush, which soon revealed themselves to be Nyda and Galina. Both bowed their heads with a fist to their heart. “With pride we serve.”

Kahlan smiled at the greeting. The other morning the entire force of Mord-Sith was waiting outside her tent when she rose, to be ‘tested.’ As reluctant as she was to use the bond, there was a firm logic to making sure those who said they were bonded to her, actually were. 

“But I trust you,” she tried to argue.

“And we trust you. Which is why we want you to do this,” Hally had insisted.

So, she went down the line and connected to each one. Even Sisters like Berdine who had made their vow on their own, and Hally, who after all they had done together, obviously was bonded. It was interesting how each connection felt a little different. As if a small piece of their personalities could be felt through the bond.

The whole thing felt ceremonial. Like they had been on a trial run, and now they were reaffirming their commitment to each other. 

In the middle of it all was Hania. Waiting stone faced for her turn. Kahlan paused a moment before she began. Giving the woman a chance to change her mind or back out. Hania gave an almost imperceptible nod before Kahlan continued, trying to push her gratitude for saving her life along with the connection.

It was what happened after that, Kahlan had a more difficult time with. The Mord-Sith wanted to begin saying a daily devotion. Kahlan found the whole idea barbaric. For those who want to keep people under their foot.

“What do you want to say?” Kahlan asked wearily.

“We thought you should have some say in that,” Berdine answered. “We could always steal the one to the Lord Rahl and change the name.”

Kahlan knew what the Lord Rahl had the people of D’hara drone out to him for marks at a time each day. _"Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours."_

Our lives are yours. “No,” Kahlan said firmly. “No way. Your lives are no one’s but your own. And I am certainly not to be exalted like some sort of demi-god.” 

“You are certainly more worthy of those words than Darken Rahl, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan smiled softly. “Thank you, Raina, but you are still not saying that. I am not your master, and you are not slaves.”

“We serve you with pride, Mother Confessor,” Hally insisted.

“Say that then,” she replied. “If you _must_ say something.”

So, it was decided, a short and simple, “Kahlan Amnell, we serve you with pride,” would be said once each morning, without gathering or fanfare, in the spirit of keeping the bond strong. But somehow it had been turned into a greeting as well. Kahlan found she didn’t mind it.

However, Mord-Sith coming to meet them, instead of waiting in camp for their return, could not mean anything good.

Her smile faded. “What is it?”

Nyda shook her head. “The Seeker is gone. And he took the Journey book with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a very reflective chapter. I do that sometimes when I want to cheat and not write entire scenes, but still want to share the key moments. I did way more of it here than I usually do though, so hopefully all the flashing back wasn't too confusing. 
> 
> I had a bunch of thoughts and moments I wanted to get out there before we moved into our climax next.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was getting long, so I decided to cut the chapter and give you something to read.  
> So there will be one more after this.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Kahlan stretched her legs out in front of the fire and sipped her tea, watching as Cara paced back and forth on the other side of the flames.

“Cara, sit down and rest. I am sure she is fine and will be back soon. Save your energy.”

Green eyes flashed at her defiantly. “I have plenty of energy, and I am _not_ worried about her.”

“Could have fooled me,” she smiled softly. 

“Hally is annoyingly sneaky. If I didn’t want to kill him myself, I might let her creep right into camp and slit Rahl’s throat.”

Kahlan chuckled. And Cara might have to fight her for that honour.

“If I am worried about anything,” Cara continued, “it is that Richard has turned our relatively easy task into a difficult one by ruining the element of surprise.”

Her smile fell away. She was worried about that too. They wasted the rest of the day trying to find him, before they gave up and continued on their own. Time was getting short. They couldn’t spend it tracking down a Seeker that did not wish to work with them. Not that she didn’t immediately know where he had gone. But Richard was a skilled woodsman, and exceedingly good at hiding his tracks. 

There were a hundred different routes he could have taken to the Pillars of Creation, and travelling by himself would make it easier to hide which one he took. 

They had been able to follow his trail as it backtracked a way up the Kern before it disappeared into the water. But despite the initial path leading north towards D’hara, Kahlan knew he had gone south. He had gone to kill Rahl. On his own. Because of the Prophecy he suddenly believed in? Because he didn’t trust the Mord-Sith? Because he was trying to prove something to Kahlan? Creator knew. 

She only knew he had gone to be the hero he felt he was destine to be, and he took their map of the Pillars with him. 

Berdine had stowed the journey book in her saddle bag, along with the spell book. After they had finished packing up camp that morning and were waiting for Kahlan to return from Brabant, she went to retrieve it, to go over some of the possible entrance points with Captain Meiffert again. After they realized it was gone, it didn’t take long to notice the Seeker’s horse was missing as well.

They looked for signs of him over the past week. But unsurprisingly found none.

So now Richard was gone. Taken their map of the catacombs. Taken her communication line with Aydindril. And if whatever he was planning on doing to stop Rahl didn’t work, put his forces on high alert for their pending arrival. 

He’d be lucky if he didn’t get himself killed.

“The least he could have done was leave _his_ journey book, so we could still communicate with Zedd,” she muttered. “So we could get another map. Or maybe find out if Richard is still even _alive.”_

Cara looked at her a long moment, then moved around the fire to sit down on the log beside her. “Richard has gone barrelling in head first before and has always managed to come out unscathed.” 

“I knew he was struggling with all this,” Kahlan waved her free hand across the camp. “I should have…”

“Stop.” Cara grabbed her hand and pushed it back into her lap. “You are not responsible for Richard’s choices.” 

“He’s grasping, Cara.” She shook her head sadly. “Because I told him we can’t… that I don’t…” she let out a long sigh. “He’s trying to prove something by doing this himself.”

“We have all been short with him of late, but not without cause. And it does not excuse putting everything at risk by running off alone.” Once again Cara was without her gloves, and her fingers were warm and soft as they held Kahlan’s hand against her thigh. Cara could be such a contradiction. She was as cold and hard and fierce as any person she had ever met. She could still the most brutal mercenaries with a gaze, then bring them to their knees in a blink. 

But somewhere along the way she had slowly revealed to Kahlan a more gentle side. A gentle side that would evaporate if Cara heard her thoughts, Kahlan smirked to herself. But Cara was every bit warmth and comfort, as she was battle hardened protector. She wasn’t sure how she got so lucky as to get to see that side of the blonde, but she swore never to take it for granted. 

Suddenly Cara was looking at her with a curious curl playing on her lip.

“What?” Kahlan asked cautiously.

“What yourself. You’re grinning like the town fool.” Cara’s smile widened. “Did Rikka slip some of the rye into your tea?”

Kahlan’s smile grew in kind. “I don’t know what is more absurd about that question. That you would actually have any rye left, or that Rikka would let anybody drink on the eve of battle.”

Cara hooked a brow, “ah well, I am sure the Lady Amnell could garner an exception in the name of calming her nerves.”

“Nerves? I’m not the one who spent the last half mark walking a path into the grass.”

Cara’s face fell flat and Kahlan laughed. Then she watched Cara’s eyes fall to her lips and her breath caught. She was hyper aware of Cara’s hand still covering her own. Finger tips gently grazing across her thigh.

A tingling heat travelled up her leg, filling her stomach. Her own eyes fell to Cara’s lips, then she heard herself breathe out her name. “Cara.”

The fingers over her hand tightened. She leaned in. Cara was leaning too. Everything slowed. Then, almost casually, Cara was pulling her hand and her body away and looking past her. “Hally. About time.”

Hally rolled her eyes as she came into view. “Don’t be jealous because your old woman eyes can’t see in the dark.” Her sentence trailed off with a pull of an eyebrow as she looked between the two of them. Her lip quirked up to match her brow. “Should I come back?”

Kahlan could still feel the flush on her face and neck, and wondered how much of it Hally could see in the flickering light of the fire. Her smirk said all of it.

Cara huffed. “What did you find out?”

Hally shifted her feet and straightened. “To answer your first question, I saw no sign of the Seeker. But then I saw no sign of Rahl either, and he is undoubtedly there. I was able to sneak up onto the ridge behind the Pillars unnoticed and get a good look at their camp. As expected, they have dug an entrance underneath the structure. There wasn’t a lot of movement in or out, but it is late, and the camp was rather quiet. The only thing I can say for sure, is that if the Seeker has made his move, then he was unsuccessful, because it seems to be business as usual for the Dragon Corp.”

“And scouts behind the ridge?” Kahlan asked. 

“I saw two, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t more. The clouds in the night sky made it incredibly dark back there, which made it easy to get around unnoticed, but also hard to see. A good soldier would be trained to keep his movements to the minimum and blend in with the shadows.”

Kahlan exchanged a look with Cara. “If they were expecting an attack, you would think they’d be on higher alert.”

“Maybe Richard hasn’t found a way into the Pillars yet?” Cara suggested. “Even he isn’t dumb enough to try the front door by himself.”

Kahlan didn’t answer.

“Okay,” Cara rose, “lets wake the others, and tell them what you saw at the camp.” Hally nodded and moved off. Cara looked back down at Kahlan. “There are still a couple marks before we have to move. You should get some rest.”

She smiled at her softly, and stood also. “Is that your way of saying _you_ need some rest?”

Kahlan enjoyed the scowl she got in answer.

\---------------------------

They crept in slowly in the dead of night. The dry gullies, odd tuffs of grass, and endless dunes in the foothills behind the Pillars of Creation offered little in the way of cover, so the horses were left back at the camp. A handful of Mord-Sith had moved in ahead of the group, led by Hally, and taken out the scouts behind the ruins. Now everyone was in position. 

Galina, Hannah, and several of the Captain’s men waited prone at the top of the ridge, to start raining arrows down on the Dragon Corp from above. Most of the rest of their force lay in wait to move in on the camp by foot after that. 

When the fighting started, Kahlan, Cara, Rikka, and Berdine were to quickly scour the hillside for three potential entrance points. They only had a vague idea on where they could be, based on a lot of time staring at maps, and Rikka’s trap door memory of the catacomb drawing she looked at once. 

The hope was they could find one and slip in the back way, while Rahl was looking out the front. But with their forces closer to even than they expected, the back way was a luxury, not a necessity. They gave themselves a quarter mark to find a way in, otherwise they would join the fight in camp, and force their way into the Temple by the front door. They were just waiting for enough light to see. Then Cara was to send up the signal.

They had one day to stop Rahl. This next night the moon would go full. If they didn’t get to him by then, he would enact his spell, and stopping him would become a much more difficult task. Rahl would not be a child learning to walk. His current body may hold no power, but he had weld it mercilessly in the past. He knew what he was doing.

For everything Nicci was, she had never truly sought power over others. First the Keeper’s will, and then her own immortality. But Rahl with Nicci’s power. A man who craved to have everyone under his foot and feel them suffer. The thought was terrifying.

Kahlan sat on the rocky dirt, checking her daggers for the umpteenth time. Cara lay casually against the one dead tree that could be found for a league. Kahlan was half expecting her weight to topple the thing over. For all her pacing earlier, she looked almost at peace now. Like finally being able to _do something_ was in itself calming. A few feet away Rikka was polishing her Agiel, and Berdine was a little further off talking quietly with Raina. _Spirits_ , she hoped she didn’t bring those two back together, just to have them be torn apart again now. 

She focused on Cara’s countless preaching of Mord-Sith superiority for comfort. These women could handle themselves. She had seen that with her own eyes. 

A dark shadow softly prodded across the dry rocky earth in their direction. The clouds had begun breaking up some time ago, and the light of the moon revealed the figure as Captain Meiffert a few steps before he reached them. “Mother Confessor, everything is ready. The strategy is clear. I just wanted to wish you good luck, and thank you again for this opportunity to finally free D’hara from the bane of the Rahl legacy for good.”

She smiled up at him. “It is I who owe you thanks Captain. You put your faith in me, despite a lifetime of our being on the opposite side, and your expertise on this mission has been invaluable. Whatever you choose to do after this, know I will support you in any way that I can.”

“Thank you, Mother Confessor. That’s actually what I would like to talk to Mistress Cara about.” His eyes tracked sideways to where the Mord-Sith sat. “Do you think I could speak with you a moment?”

Cara looked up at him with an expectant brow. 

Benjamin gestured to the side with a beseeching smile. “Please?”

Cara sighed and pushed herself up. Kahlan felt her stomach tighten as they walked off into the dark. She could easily make out their shadows now. The sun was starting to crack the horizon in the east. The light of day beginning to overtake the night. It was probably beautiful.

Kahlan couldn’t tear her eyes from Cara and Benjamin. Their forms were becoming clearer by the moment in the growing light. But not enough light to make out their faces at this distance. Finally, the taller figure of Benjamin nodded, then _leaned in._ Did he just kiss her on the cheek? The Captain walked off in the other direction. She realized she was still frowning as Cara returned.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Kahlan answered, rising to her feet, and nonchalantly brushing the dirt off her Confessors dress. She had purposely worn it today. Perhaps it made her an obvious target, but she wanted to be wearing the mark of her office when they took down Rahl. And, she couldn’t lie, she wanted everyone to see his former Mord-Sith working with her to stop him. “What did the Captain want?” she tried to ask as if it didn’t really matter.

Cara shook her head and looked off back towards where he had re-joined his men. “He is planning on returning to the People’s Palace when this is done, to try and set up a functioning government for the people.”

“That’s all?”

Cara shrugged and bent to retrieve her bow and quiver, then began to check her other weapons. “I suppose he wanted to know if I would be interested in working at his side.” 

Somehow Kahlan knew he meant as more than an ally. She bit her lip then forced herself to ask. “And are you sure that’s not what you want?” When Cara’s eyes flickered back to her like an accusation, she swiftly went on. “I mean, it wasn’t that long ago, you spent most of your evenings around the campfire trying to convince Richard to return to D’hara with you and do just that. If you wanted to go back, it would be understandable.”

For a long moment, Cara just looked at her, face unreadable. Her eyes briefly fell to the ground, but quickly came back up full of conviction. “You know what I want, Kahlan.” 

Before Kahlan could process the words or offer a response, Cara was looking off towards the horizon. “It’s light enough. Its time to move. Rikka,” she turned to her blonde Sister and gestured with her head towards Berdine and Raina. “You wanna go break that up? Its time.”

Rikka grinned wickedly. “Gladly. If I don’t get to kill something soon, I’m going to have to take it out on you.”

Kahlan only half heard them as Cara knelt down and readied to light her arrow. She was reeling. Cara had told her she cared in her own Cara ways many times before. But never so directly. Declaring she was no longer going to hide from it, and laying down a challenge all in one calm but determined sentence.

Cara finally got the flint to light the arrowhead she had earlier wrapped in linen and soaked in resin, then she quickly ran up the hill to Hannah and Galina, to help them light several arrows of their own. In a blink they were loosed, flying out of sight over the ridge, presumably into the tents where the Dragon Corp slept. In the ensuing chaos, the archers would take out as many men as they could, then provide cover when the remaining Mord-Sith and soldiers moved in on foot. 

Cara was back down the hill before the first cry came up from the camp. And Kahlan was still staring at her half in shock. But she couldn’t focus on that now, they had to try and find an entrance. She forced herself to the task at hand. 

As best as they could remember, one of the catacombs extended about a hundred yards directly behind where they had deposited the Stone of Tears so many weeks ago. That is where they started. Looking for any sign of a door or opening in the earth, what could be hiding an entrance, or what once could have once been an entrance.

Problem was, this structure was centuries old. The land had changed, been weathered and broken by time. There were no guarantees there even were other entry points to begin with, so the odds of them finding anything were…

“Here,” Berdine called out from a few yards away. She was still brushing at a pile of rock when they reached her. “I think its too late for this tunnel, but look,” she pointed at a half symbol exposed in the mound of broken rock. “It’s a Grace. Maybe all the entrances were marked.” Berdine pulled out a map of their approximate targets, then surveyed the land. She pointed to the north-east. “There may be another about forty yards back that way,” then to the north, “and another seventy-five yards that way.”

Rikka was off, and pacing out the further distance with her steps. Berdine shrugged and went after, so Kahlan turned her attention to the north-eastern point. She didn’t have to look to know Cara was following behind, keeping an eye on the ridge. She took a glance up herself. Not much could be seen from here. Just the archers, and the odd arrow coming back the other way. But battle cries and the clash of metal could now be clearly heard from the other side.

She counted off forty paces, then began her search. The ground was pretty flat here. If there was an entrance it was thoroughly buried.

“This doesn’t look promising,” Cara said as she walked around, alternately checking behind them and swiping at the ground with her boot.

Kahlan bent down and traced a crack in the earth that could be the edge of a step, or could just be a crack in the rock. “If there is anything here, it would take an excavation to dig it out.”

A shout from Rikka and they were off jogging. She and Berdine were half hidden behind a mound of earth. When they made their way around the other side, Kahlan lost a step, and Cara almost crashed into her back. There was an opening, and opening that contained a flight of stairs that disappeared into the darkness. A pile of shattered rock sat on the ground in front of it.

“Richard,” Kahlan whispered. “He got in.”

Cara knelt down and pushed her hand through the shards of rock. “Did he use the sword to do this? It must have made quite the racket.” She looked back up at them concerned. “He must have done this before we got here or we would have heard.”

“If the Seeker has been through,” Rikka asked, “then where is he? Or else how come there were only two Dragon Corp barely guarding back here? He must have either stopped Rahl or been stopped himself by now.”

Cara pulled another linen wrapped arrow from her quiver and quickly sparked it. She waved it into the dark. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll check it out.” 

Before Kahlan could protest, she was moving down the stairs. The light disappeared as she rounded a corner. A sharp yell from over the ridge briefly took Kahlan’s attention, then she was back to staring into the dark hole. Her stomach was in knots. This could easily be a trap. Cara should have taken somebody with her. The minutes started to drag on, and she was having a hard time not charging down after her. She must have taken a step forward because a soft hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“She will be fine, Mother Confessor,” Berdine assured. “You should know Cara is far too proud to die alone in a dark hole.”

Kahlan managed a slight chuckle, then two glowing lights appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Both Mord-Sith instantly had their Agiel’s pulled, and were pushing Kahlan behind them. She started reaching for her daggers as the lights came up the stairs, but then Cara was there, rolling her eyes at their posture. Kahlan could feel the air come out of her in relief.

“It’s clear as far as I dare go.” She shoved two torches she had found somewhere into each of the Mord-Sith’s hands. “It’s a maze down there. Collapsed walls and tunnels everywhere.”

“It’s okay,” Berdine assured. “Rahl will be drawing his spell in the middle of the Original Grace, which is less than two hundred yards in that direction,” she pointed back over the ridge. “As long as we keep moving that way, we’ll find him.”

Cara tilted her head towards the stairs, and Rikka and Berdine started down. “You ready to end this?”

“You have no idea,” Kahlan replied. 

Excited eyes were on her with a challenging smile, as she echoed words from weeks earlier. “Daggers out, Confessor.”

She smiled back. But as Cara turned back to the tunnel, Kahlan was overcome with an almost panic. Anything could happen once they were in there. The thought of something happening and Cara _not_ _knowing_ terrified her more than any possible outcome they were about to face. She quickly snatched up Cara’s hand before she could step out of reach. “Cara, wait!”

Cara stopped, looking down curiously at their joined hands, before returning to her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I…” Kahlan faltered. Lost her words a moment. Lost in sea green eyes, patiently waiting. Maybe words were overrated. Using their still connected hands, she pulled herself closer to press her lips to Cara’s. She held the contact for the briefest of moments. Just long enough to feel Cara’s impossibly soft lips move ever so slightly against hers, then pulled back. “I want it too,” she finally found her voice. 

Cara stared at her in a stunned disbelief. Her head tilted slightly to the side, brow furrowed, eyes boring into Kahlan. Then a relieved huff of breath, a genuine smile, and Cara was on her. 

Kahlan’s senses were on fire as Cara’s mouth moved eagerly against her own. She felt a gloved hand come up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her even closer. Kahlan’s free hand found its way to Cara’s waist and she dug her fingers in. A pathetic whimper escaped her throat at the feel of Cara’s tongue teasing its way across her lips.

“Creator, you two are going to do this _now_?”

Kahlan jumped back, covering her still tingling lips with her hand, and coughed. She could feel her blush all the way to her toes. 

Cara, naturally, turned a wicked scowl on Rikka, who only laughed in response. 

“Don’t get me wrong, its about damn time,” Rikka grinned and gestured down the stairs with her torch to where another light was waiting. “But we kind of got a thing to do here.”

Cara huffed and snatched the torch out of Rikka’s hands. Before she started down the stairs, she did pause at the threshold to look back at Kahlan. Her lip twitched into the smallest of smiles, then she was all business and moving down into the catacombs.

Still grinning, Rikka held out a hand. “After you, Mother Confessor. Your wife would kill me if I let you bring up the rear.”

Kahlan pushed her hair, and hopefully her blush, off her face, then pulled her daggers and followed Cara into the earth. 

“What took you so long?” Berdine was asking when they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Did something happen?”

“You owe me twenty silver is what happened,” Rikka announced, coming up behind them.

“Bags,” Berdine exclaimed. “You guys waited all this time. You couldn’t last a couple more marks?”

“You bet money on us?” Kahlan’s disbelief overrunning her embarrassment for the moment.

Rikka pushed ahead of the group, liberating Cara from the torch once more. “Well, Raina won’t let Berdine bet favours.”

“That’s not…” Kahlan’s flush was back full force. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, well, I stood to lose a lot today, so thank you for caving before you found it.” Rikka smirked at Berdine. “I told you.”

“Its not like it wasn’t close,” Berdine defended. “I should have factored in the pending doom. You got lucky.”

“Wait, found what?” Cara who had been doing her best to ignore the entire conversation, was suddenly invested.

“Rahl’s Rada’Han,” Rikka said as if it were obvious. “The Confessor seems obsessed with not confessing you for some reason.”

Kahlan didn’t have time to blush again because out of nowhere she found herself the target of Cara’s glare. She was a little confused as to what she had done. “What?” she asked wearily.

“Anyone who comes within twenty feet of you with that thing will find themselves beaten to death with their own arms, after I rip them from their sockets.”

Kahlan couldn’t help but be a little moved by Cara’s apparent defensiveness of her and her power. But still, if it could allow them to be together. “Cara…”

“No,” she cut off firmly. “Nobody who…” she checked herself and pointed instead. “No.”

And intense stare-down ensued and Berdine finally coughed to cut the silence. “I am sure there will be plenty of time to work out the logistics of your sex life after we kill Rahl.” Cara turned her glare on her Sister, but she just pointed down the corridor with her torch. “Shall we go do that, so you two can get on with it then?”

Rikka started off, still grinning. Cara snatched away Berdine’s torch, and gestured for her to follow. Kahlan was pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes, careful to keep the daggers she was grasping pointing out. “Creator,” she murmured. She pulled her hands away when she felt a warm glove on her hip.

Cara was looking at her intently but her voice was soft. “You will not put one of those things around your neck for me, Kahlan. Not for anyone.”

“But Cara…”

“Do you really think I won’t find a way?” Cara’s face morphed into a sly grin as she cut her off again. She leaned in and lowered her voice, “that I don’t already have several promising ideas?”

Cara’s breath tickling her ear sent a fire burning down her spine, hitting her firmly in the gut. Spirits, why had she waited so long for this?

“Come on,” the warm gloved hand moved to the small of her back, urging her forward. “I am highly motivated to get this done now.”

That tore a quiet laugh from Kahlan. She glanced back as she walked. “Saving the world not good enough for you?”

“Priorities, Confessor,” she grinned back.

\------------

What on paper should have been a short walk to the centre of the catacombs, was turning into a marathon of turns and backtracking. Their path would be blocked by a caved in roof, only to find a new one open up through a collapsed wall, in a room that otherwise would have been a dead-end.

Perhaps Richard was lost down here, somewhere, and that is why Rahl seemed so unaware of their pending arrival. Kahlan had long lost track of their direction, but Rikka seemed focused and determined, and really, she had no choice but to trust the woman knew where they were.

Her faith proved wise a few minutes later when they turned a corner and light appeared at the far end of the corridor. Rikka quickly ushered them back out of the light, dropping her torch on the ground and stomping it out. “We have no way of knowing how many of them there are in here,” she whispered, sharing looks with her Sisters. “We proceed slow, keep your kills quiet.”

For all their usual teasing and one-upmanship, the Mord-Sith were all on the same page now. No second guessing. No challenging for authority. But a unit. Sisters in arms.

“Perhaps you should wait here, Mother Confessor,” Berdine suggested. “Until we clear the way?”

Cara scoffed. “Don’t bother, Berdine. She’s as stubborn as hell, and is never happy until she has firmly placed herself in the middle of danger.”

Kahlan turned her gaze on Cara in disbelief. “ _I’m_ stubborn?”

Cara only grinned as she snuffed out the other torch. 

Without another word, Rikka and Cara pushed around the corner, each taking a side, as they quietly slipped up towards the source of the light. Berdine and Kahlan followed. When Cara reached the opening, she pressed herself tight against the wall, and pulled both her Agiels before taking a quick peak around. There was just enough light to make out the hand signals Cara was flashing to Rikka. Two guards, about four paces to the left. She made another flash towards Berdine, pointing at her eyes, and to the right. One more hand signal and they were all moving. 

Before Kahlan could follow them through the door, she could hear the soft thump of two bodies coming to the ground. A quick look to the left confirmed both men were down, one with his head at an extremely awkward angle, indicating his neck had definitely been broke. With a wave from the right, Berdine let them know that way was a dead end, and they continued down the hall. 

Torches lined the ancient stone walls, making it as light as midday. Still, they moved cautiously, keeping their footsteps quiet on the hard stone. Just as they reached the next junction, another guard came around. His eyes barely had time to go wide in surprise before Rikka had him slammed against the wall with firm hands on his mouth and throat. Cara quickly followed with both her Agiels to his chest, and he fell limp.

“They always hog the fun,” Berdine whispered as Rikka and Cara ducked down the next hall. Kahlan smiled briefly, spinning her blades in her hands, keeping them at the ready. This was all starting to feel too easy. There was a full-on battle raging outside, and yet the defense of Rahl and his looming spell felt almost lack. Before she could ponder it further, a hand in the air halted the procession. Cara walked back towards them and Rikka took her place watching the corner.

“I think we’re here,” she whispered. “There is a large rounded room, with an archway opening into it. Two guards stand watch. They will see us as soon as we step out from cover.” Cara eyed Kahlan’s daggers, and she needed no further instruction. She nodded and moved to the front.

Rikka made way, and she took a quick peak around to note the men’s position. Stepping out from behind the wall, she loosed both her daggers in a single movement, hitting one man dead, right in the throat. The other man was hit low, blade sticking in his ribs with groan. Past her shoulder she felt a rush of air, and an arrow quickly followed into the second guard, finishing him off. 

The bodies both thumped hard when they hit the floor. The noise echoed in the stone chamber. Kahlan quickly rushed to retrieve her daggers and take cover next to the marble archway. Cara was right beside her, pressing close, another arrow knocked and ready. “I’m with you, Confessor,” she whispered. 

Kahlan turned to Cara, taking in her green eyes one last time. Soaking in the strength and confidence she found there. She nodded stiffly once, then looked across the archway to Rikka and Berdine waiting on the other side. She nodded again, raised her daggers, and stepped through the door.

The room was large and bright. A dishevelled looking Nicci sat bound, leaning against a fallen column of marble along the right side. At the back of the room stood the Seeker, tied with his arms raised above his head, and a half dozen Dragon Corp aiming their bows at his body. And in the middle of the room, amidst intricate patterns drawn on the floor in white and black sand, stood a very pleased looking Darken Rahl.

“Ah, Kahlan Amnell, finally. Welcome,” he smiled. “I have been waiting for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually hadn't planned on letting them kiss yet, but it felt like the time had come. I always said despite my plan, I would let it happen when it needed to happen, and I could no longer stand in their way. 😝 
> 
> Also it made for some more fun light heartedness before the badness starts. 😬
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support. I have reached 700 KUDOS! I cannot believe it.  
> And to those of you who have left me comments, they mean so much to me! 
> 
> See you all again soon for the finale, for real next time!


	34. Chapter 34

“It’s over Rahl,” Kahlan shot back. She could see Cara through her peripheral vision, bow drawn, ready to release her arrow into Darken Rahl and end this. Without looking, she knew Berdine and Rikka were right behind her. Her eyes travelled back to the Seeker across the room, struggling against his bindings. Of course, he had been caught. She had to think fast if Richard was going to get out of this in one piece. 

“Now Kahlan, my dear, that is where you are mistaken. We are only getting started,” Rahl drawled confidently from where he stood in the middle of the large intricate pattern of the spell. “As I said, we have been waiting. You should put your weapons down if you don’t want the Seeker’s death on your hands. Then we can chat like the civilized people we are.”

“Kahlan, kill him!” Richard shouted.

Rahl tilted his head with a devious grin. “You don’t want to do that.”

“Oh, I think I do,” Cara snarled. 

Rahl put his hand to his heart. “Cara Mason, I am shocked and appalled. You would allow your actions to lead to the _death_ of your Lord Rahl? Oh, wait, that is right in character isn’t it?” he said, waving one hand in the air, and bringing the other forward. “Regardless. That is not why you don’t want to kill me.” He opened his fist to reveal a handful of black Sorcerer’s Sand.

Cara scoffed. “Hoping to throw dirt in my eyes, so I’ll miss?” Kahlan watched her muscles tighten, but a gloved hand was quickly on Cara’s shoulder holding her back.

“Cara don’t.”

“Ah Berdine,” Rahl interrupted the interruption. “Here working against me, after I treated you and Raina _so well_. You break my heart.”

The myriad of emotions that flickered across Berdine’s face almost caused Kahlan to throw her own dagger into Rahl’s chest. But Berdine had stopped Cara for a reason. “What is it, Berdine?”

Her sharp blue eyes came to Kahlan. “If he drops the sand on the spell it could trigger it.”

Kahlan shook her head, “but it won’t work until the moon comes full tonight.”

Berdine shook hers back. “It wont work properly, but that doesn’t mean it wont try. This is extremely complicated magic, and that makes it volatile. Even a single grain out of place can cause it to go awry.” She nodded towards Rahl. “Probably the reason that coward didn’t pursue it before. It is designed to pull the magic out of its target. Without being tethered to a target, it could burn like an out-of-control wildfire and take down everything in its path.”

“You mean…”

“Potentially it could consume all magic, taking all life with it.”

“Rahl wouldn’t do that,” Rikka stepped forward, brandishing her Agiel. “He wouldn’t get what he wants, and just die anyway.”

“Rikka,” Darken Rahl closed his fist. “I must say, it is a surprise seeing you here, hiding behind Cara’s shadow, after you worked so hard to arise from it. Come back to me, and take your rightful place at my side as favourite.”

“The only reason I have to come near you, is to put my Agiel to your heart.”

“Well, you always were more brawn than brains,” he declared. “You see, I have nothing left to lose. I, like our Sorceress friend over here,” he waved down at a glaring Nicci, propped up against the side wall with her hands bound. Kahlan could see in her eyes she was calculating. Trying to find her own way out of this. “I betrayed the Keeper. And if I die, the punishment I’ll face will be worse than a thousand Agiels for all of eternity.” Rahl grimaced. “So, I will either walk out of here with Nicci’s power, and start down a path to immortality. Or I will die, and take all of creation with me. Perhaps then the Keeper will show me leniency, as I help him reach his ultimate goal.” He stretched out his arm and turned his hand sideways. “So, you are going to lower your weapons and we will talk.”

Kahlan wanted to believe he was lying. Call his bluff. Let Cara loose her arrow. End this. They could worry about Richard after. But she was still a Confessor, and she could still read the truth. And Rahl wasn’t lying. 

“Cara…” she said, lowering her daggers. 

“ _Kahlan_ ,” Cara gritted back. 

Kahlan looked over. Cara’s eyes were darting all over Rahl, his men, his spell. Probably trying to figure out a way to take him down, and stop him from dropping the sand. 

“Cara,” she encouraged again.

Cara was near shaking with the tension. Finally, she huffed, angled slightly to the left, and let her arrow fly. It landed with a thud, into the neck of one of the Dragon Corp who was watching Richard. The man thumped heavy to the ground with a gurgle. Then she lowered her bow.

“Very mature Cara,” Rahl admonished, but made no other move to pay back the transgression. “Now,” he turned his eyes back to Kahlan. “I am going to need you to confess me one of your Mord-Sith.”

“ _What_?” She fought to keep her eyes on him. Of all the things she thought Rahl might say or do next, that one wasn’t even on the radar. “You want me to kill you a Mord-Sith?” she forced out calmly. “To what end?”

“Now, now Kahlan. You’re a Confessor. It’s below you to lie,” Rahl drawled again. “You see. Just when I thought everything was coming together, all my Mord-Sith up and left.” He turned his head back over his shoulder to look at Richard. “At first I thought my dear brother had finally claimed the bond and called them to him.” Rahl’s patronizing gaze passed over the Mord-Sith in the room. “Why else would a Sister of the Agiel abandon their Lord Rahl? And well, I was at a loss of how I was going to enact the spell.”

Kahlan scrambled through her memory, they had been through the spell book forwards and back, there was no mention of a Mord-Sith required. In fact, Mord-Sith didn’t even exist when the spell was first used. But it was Berdine who spoke. “Bags, I missed it,” she chastised herself. Kahlan looked at her curiously, and Berdine waved her Agiel at Nicci. “He must unbind the magic before he can pull it from her. She obviously isn’t going to sit there and take it, so he needs a Mord-Sith to control her until the spell completes its work. I am sorry Mother Confessor.”

“ _Sorry Mother Confessor?”_ Rahl repeated distastefully. “Keeper take me, what have you done to my Mord-Sith, Kahlan Amnell?” 

Kahlan only turned her glare on him. She still wasn’t sure what he knew, and didn’t want to give anything away. Rahl shrugged, seemingly happy to continue with his monologue.

“Well, as I was saying, I was at a bit of a loss on how I was going to restrain our dear Nicci here, while I took her power. But then Richard here so kindly walked in and gave me the answer.” 

“What did you say, Richard?” Kahlan glared angrily.

He shook his head vigorously. “I didn’t…”

Darken Rahl laughed shortly. “As usual, Richard had nothing useful to say. My initial hopes that he might have dragged some of my Mord-Sith back with him were quickly dashed, when my soldiers could hardly notice my brother was even there, let alone enforcing the bond. But then we found those.” He waved his free hand at a small table off to the side of the room. Leaned against it were Richard’s sword and pack. A top it sat both journey books. “I must say Mother Confessor, I didn’t think you had it in you. Not to try, and definitely not to succeed in convincing them to join what they once so delighted in hunting.”

Kahlan’s blood ran cold. Still, she only wrote to Zedd about the Mord-Sith bonding to her, not about their surviving confession. He couldn’t know. “I still don’t understand how confessing a Mord-Sith, will do anything but provide you with a few moments of twisted entertainment. You have only your own cruelty to blame for them abandoning you.”

“Cruelty? They are not kittens, Mother Confessor. They are built on cruelty, thrive on it. It is their life blood. It is what makes them the ultimate weapon,” he sneered. “And I will have them back.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Kahlan said defiantly. Her hands automatically tightening around her still lowered daggers.

“Oh, I think it is, my dear. And you are going to help me do it.” Rahl nodded towards the journey books once more. “Thanks to the Seeker’s drivel to the Wizard, _I know_. You see he was not excited about your little arrangement with my Mord-Sith. He _begged_ the First Wizard to find a way to reverse it. And oh, his horror when he found out they no longer died by Confession.”

Kahlan’s eyes shot back to Richard, steel blue, full of anger and accusation. He couldn’t hold her gaze, and his own eyes shifted to the ground. She brought her attention back to the matter at hand. “So what? I confess a Mord-Sith, they will only fight as fiercely to protect me as they always do.”

A slow, lecherous grin spread across Rahl’s face. “Not if you command them to obey me.”

The air froze in Kahlan’s lungs. She bit her lip and glanced sideways. Cara and Berdine were to her right, both staring down Rahl. Ready to go at him on a moment’s notice. She knew if she glanced to her left, Rikka would look the same. The decision was hers, and they would not question it. Her mind raced for a way out of this. Rahl only extended his sand-bearing hand further. “Berdine,” she asked. “How sure are you that he will set off a chain reaction if he activates the spell?”

“What will happen? I don’t think any of us know for sure. That he will try, definitely.”

“You know I’m willing to risk it Confessor,” Rahl added. “ _Are you_? Just confess me a Mord-Sith and the rest you can leave. Even your precious Seeker. But if you come back and try to stop me, I will ignite the spell, with or without the moon.”

Her eyes fell back to Cara. She was looking at her so steady and strong. Ready to go along and trust in whatever decision she made. Rahl wasn’t well protected. They could kill him now; she had no doubt. Maybe with or without the Seeker’s life in tact, but that was secondary to making sure Rahl did not gain Nicci’s power. But if Rahl dropped that sand, it could be catastrophic. 

If they left, if she gave him a Mord-Sith, he would gain his power. But they would still be alive to fight him. He would still have to come out of the catacombs to face her and the rest of the Mord-Sith. If Mord-Sith could control Nicci, they could control Darken Rahl with Nicci’s power. He could be contained. He could be killed.

Her shoulders slumped. “Fine,” she relented. “I have a Confessed Mord-Sith,” she turned and nodded to Berdine, “go find Laurin, bring her.”

“Oh no,” Darken Rahl laughed, amused. “You see that just will not do.”

“Why not?” Kahlan hissed. Her fingers itching to throw her daggers into this sick man and end his games.

“You think I am dumb enough to let you do this outside of my supervision? That you won’t try to slip your Confessed some message when I am not there to hear it. Thwart my efforts!” He shook his head violently, and once again flashed an evil grin. “No. You have three _very_ _capable_ Mord-Sith right here. Pick one. Command them to do as I say. Then leave.”

Kahlan was about to refuse, but Berdine stepped forward. “I’ll do it. This is my fault. I should have seen this coming.”

“This is _not_ your fault Berdine.” Her eyes unwittingly darted to Richard and back. “We would not have made it this far without you.”

“And I am not living with Raina if something happens to you,” Rikka piped in. “I’ll do it. 

“Rikka…”

“Berdine,” Rikka refused to let her speak, stepping in front of Kahlan. “We both know I would not be here today if not for you. I am doing this.”

“That is a debt you have repaid many times over Rikka.”

Then Cara was there, shoving Rikka back, pushing her bow and quiver into Rikka’s hands as they moved. “Stop being morose idiots. This entire thing was my doing. This is my responsibility.”

“Cara…” Kahlan breathed out as the blonde stepped in front of her. Her heart constricted. Her stomach clenched. She thought she might vomit.

“Well, isn’t this charming.” Rahl announced. “Look how weak you all have become without your Lord Rahl. When I regain the bond, you will be sure this fault will be purged from the lot of you.”

But Kahlan wasn’t listening. She was only staring into the determined green eyes before her. “Cara, I can’t.”

“Kahlan, you can. I cannot ask my Sisters to do this. Please. They are here because of me. I won’t allow them to pay the price for that. Confess me. Escape. Fight another day. With my Sisters’ help, you and Richard can still stop this.”

Kahlan felt tears threatening, as her eyes began to sting. How could Cara stand there and ask her to obliterate her. “But you will be gone,” the first tear escaped. “All that would be left is a desire to please me.”

Somehow, in all this, Cara smiled brightly. “So just your average day on the road then.”

A whining breath escaped Kahlan’s throat, she felt like she was about to shatter. “Cara, I can’t. Don’t ask this of me. I can’t.”

Cara’s hand moved to her cheek and wiped away the falling tears. “You will. Because you know this is the best way. And you always do what needs to be done.”

She choked back a sob and lowered her voice. “Maybe I can have one of your Sisters kill me, to release you. Then bring me back with the breath of life, then…”

“No, Kahlan.” Cara shook her head curtly. “Too much can go wrong. We don’t know what will happen to the bond if you die. We don’t even know if the breath of life works anymore. And it was never foolproof to begin with. Promise me you will not risk it.”

Kahlan stared at her defiantly. If there was a chance…

“Promise me,” she repeated. For the first time her voice broke ever so slightly. “I need to know you will live.”

Kahlan squeezed her eyes shut. After several long moments she finally relented. “Okay.”

“Take care of her,” she could hear Cara say to her Sisters. She felt one of her daggers taken from her and sheathed into her boot. A warm glove then grasped her hand, gently rubbing her palm as Cara slowly pulled it up, and pressed it against her own throat. “Do it.”

Kahlan’s eyes came open. She loosened her grip, letting her hand splay gently across the base of Cara’s throat. Her fingers caressing the pounding pulse beneath them. 

“No!” A shout came from the Seeker. “Kahlan, you can’t!”

Kahlan ignored it. Ignored everything but the woman in front of her. She wanted to rip her hand away and throw her dagger into Rahl. Screw the world, was it really worth this? But they were both born of duty. She knew neither of them would be able to live with the consequences of that decision. She wanted to yell at Cara for being this person. For sacrificing herself. She couldn’t. It was part of why she loved her. Mostly she wanted to yell at Cara _that_ she loved her. But with Rahl lurking in the background it felt like a violation. For such a truth to land on his vile ears. It would become yet another thing for him to twist against them.

So instead, she just stared. Willing Cara to know her feelings. 

“I’m not afraid,” Cara said.

“I am,” Kahlan whispered back.

Kahlan didn’t close her eyes again. Staring into that deep sea green for as long as she possibly could stand it. Soaking it in. Remembering it. “I’m sorry.”

Cara’s lip twitched up. “I’m not.” Then her eyes swirled black, as Kahlan’s power burst forth. Searching. Claiming. Receding. A sharp breath escaped Cara as the black cleared away. The green irises were back. But Cara wasn’t. Even before she uttered the appellation, Kahlan could see she was gone. She could _read_ her. Read the open, doting devotion of a Confessed. “Command me, Confessor.”

Kahlan exhaled a long unsteady breath, taking only the briefest second to mourn. Duty called. If she didn’t see this through, it would be for nothing. She could not allow Cara’s sacrifice to be for nothing.

“I was hoping it would be Cara,” Rahl taunted. “Send her to me.”

She straightened and turned her burning eyes on Rahl. “Let Richard go.”

“Now, Mother Confessor that wasn’t the deal…”

“ _Now!_ ” she ordered. “You are getting what you want. Let him go.”

Rahl smiled somewhat sourly. “Very well. I am feeling generous. Two of you,” he spoke to the remaining guards around the Seeker. “Escort my brother from the Temple. The rest of you, target the Mother Confessor. If she tries anything, kill her.”

One of the large guards shoved Richard in the shoulder to ease him forward, as they moved across the room. Two arrows aimed against his back as he moved. When they passed near Kahlan, he looked over with beseeching eyes. “Kahlan, I’m sorry. I thought I could stop him. I thought…”

“Go Richard,” Kahlan stated flatly, keeping her sights focused on Darken Rahl. “Berdine, follow them. Ensure the Seeker gets out safely and inform your Sisters what is going on. If were not out in ten minutes, that means Rahl has gone back on his word. You do whatever you have to, to stop him from enacting that spell.”

“Yes, Mother Confessor,” she pounded her fist to her heart. “With pride we serve.” Berdine glanced a Cara, before they exchanged a sympathetic look, then followed the Seeker and the two Dragon Corp out the door. 

“You know its not that long ago they _prided_ themselves on killing Confessors,” Rahl offered. “Cara here was merciless at Valeria. Led the near annihilation of your kind.”

“I am aware,” Kahlan spat.

“Do you want me to kill you a Confessor, Mistress?” Cara perked up out of nowhere. Kahlan felt like she had been punched in the gut.

“No Cara,” she forced out.

“Why don’t you tell her what you want her to do, _Confessor.”_ Rahl encouraged, all too amused. 

Kahlan cleared her throat. Her skin felt clammy. She had to push down another wave of nausea. “Cara…” she wavered.

“Yes Mistress?” Cara’s voice was missing its seductive lilt, but with her head tilt and crooked brow, she almost, _almost_ felt like Cara. 

She took a deep breath. Cara had asked her to do this. _Volunteered_ for this. But it felt like a betrayal. “I need you to go to Darken Rahl. Stay with him. Do everything he says.” 

Cara’s confused eyes darted between her and Rahl. “You wish me to leave you? How am I to protect you, if I am not with you?” It sounded like an accusation.

“This is how you will protect me,” Kahlan swallowed past a lump. Tears were stinging her eyes again. She had to force herself to breathe. “This is how you will serve me.”

“But Mistress…”

_Creator,_ even confessed Cara was willfully stubborn. “Cara,” she said firmly. “If you do not do everything Rahl asks of you I will be greatly displeased.”

Cara frowned then nodded. “Yes Mistress. I will do as he asks.”

“Lovely,” Rahl piped in. “Cara, come to me now.”

Cara hesitated a moment longer. Seeking her Mistress’s approval one last time. Kahlan forced herself to nod, and Cara’s lip twitched up into a smirk. Happy to be finally doing something for her Confessor.

Rahl held out his palm. “Yes, come here Cara. It is so good to have you back. We work so well together, you and I. I am looking forward to renewing our connection.”

Cara walked until she stood before him and looked at his hand. “What would you like me to do?”

A slow, salacious smirk spread across his features. “Why don’t we start with a kiss, Cara. Let’s show the Mother Confessor how happy you are to serve her, before she has to go.”

Bile rose in Kahlan’s throat, but she felt a steady hand on her back. Rikka, cautioning her from doing anything stupid. Without question, Cara stepped up beside Rahl, wrapped a hand around his back, and leaned in. As their lips touched, Kahlan could _feel_ the blood rage begin to boil. The Con Dar was threatening to take hold. She fought it back. If she Confessed the whole room, Rahl would certainly drop the sand. She could do nothing for Cara now, except see through her wishes.

That all sounded good in her head, but a low moan from Rahl put her on the verge again. She focused on her breathing, gripping tight the one dagger she still held. She swore to herself, if it was the last thing she ever did, she would see Darken Rahl dead. 

Rahl angled their bodies slightly, so he could pull back and look at Kahlan. Smiling again, he opened his mouth to speak. But instead, his eyes went wide. Blood trickled from the corner of his lip. Then he was moving backwards. Cara was pushing him. Gloved hand fisted firmly around the one Rahl had filled with the magic sand. Pushing him hard and fast. Pushing him away from the spell. Slamming him against the wall.

For a moment, everything froze.

“Kahlan!” Rikka shouted, spurring her out of shock and into action. Kahlan quickly threw her dagger across the room, into one of the three remaining soldiers, at the same time Rikka knocked an arrow and fired into another. In one well practiced move, Kahlan ripped her other dagger free of her boot and into the last of the Dragon Corp.

Rikka was already upon them, checking they were dead. She pushed her Agiel into the heart of one man who was still twitching to finish him off. In only a few seconds it was all over. “Go,” Kahlan called to Rikka, knowing she wouldn’t have to explain. Go. Make sure Berdine got out of the Temple. Bring back help.

Rikka nodded. Pulling Kahlan’s daggers from the bodies, and handing them to her as she ran out the door. 

Then Kahlan’s eyes were on Cara, who still had Rahl pinned up against the wall, whispering to him as his last gurgling breaths escaped his body. As he fell limp, Cara released his hand. Sand fell to the floor, safely away from the danger of the spell. She stepped back, pulling free a dagger from Rahl’s chest. _Kahlan’s dagger._ The one she had insisted the Mord-Sith carry all those weeks ago, when Cara had gifted her new blades.

Rahl fell to the ground in an unceremonious heap. Cara kicked him for good measure, then bent down and slit his throat.

Kahlan stood stunned. “Cara…” she faltered against the hope burning through her chest. Maybe Zedd had been right all along. Maybe love…

“Yes Confessor?” Cara replied, wiping her dagger on Rahl’s cloak, then returning it to her belt. She straightened and waited expectantly. 

“You… I…” Kahlan stepped closer, searching for words. “I ordered you to do as Rahl asked. How… You killed him,” she finally breathed in disbelief.

“It’s what you wanted,” Cara replied. “I could feel it. Through the bond. How much you wanted him dead.”

Kahlan’s heart sank. Her spark of hope extinguished. “You’re right,” she admitted sadly. “I did.”

“Are you pleased, Mistress?” Cara asked with a hooked brow.

“Yes Cara,” Kahlan choked back a sob. “You did well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I lied. There IS one more chapter. I don't know how I ever thought everything from the last chapter, this one and the next one would fit into one... but that is how a story I thought would be 20 chapters, turned into 35 plus a sequel. I get away from myself.
> 
> I hope you don't mind.
> 
> Thank you all again for sticking with me through this journey! We are ALMOST there, for real this time! 
> 
> Comments are always welcome and appreciated!


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so.
> 
> I did it AGAIN. I don't know what to say. There should really, REALLY only be one more chapter after this, but if you all no longer believe me, I do not blame you. I don't really believe myself.

“Are you pleased Mistress?” Cara asked with a hooked brow.

“Yes Cara,” Kahlan choked back a sob. “You did well.”

“Good,” Cara said, glancing down as she stepped past Rahl’s body. “Because I _really_ just needed to be the one to kill him.” When she looked back up, Kahlan was staring at her, pale as a ghost, with her mouth hanging open slightly. She cracked her neck, hesitated. “We… don’t have to make a big deal out of this.”

“ _Cara_?” It was more whine than word. 

The expanse of emotions waging war on the Confessor’s face was overwhelming. Perhaps for the first time since she became Mord-Sith, Cara felt self-conscious. She nodded faintly. It was enough. Kahlan closed the few paces between them and pulled her into a crushing embrace. Before Cara could bring her arms up to return it, the Confessor had pulled back, grabbing her face in her hands, inspecting her eyes intently, tears glazing her own.

“It’s you.” The wetness in her eyes increasing as they flickered between Cara’s. “You’re you,” she breathed.

Cara’s hands found Kahlan’s hips but failed to gain purchase, as Kahlan was suddenly shoving at her chest with the palm of her hand. “ _I felt it through the bond?”_ She slapped her chest again. “What the hell was that about! I thought…” 

“I _did_ feel it through the bond,” Cara said defensively. She didn’t want to admit she had needed a moment to centre herself, before Kahlan’s inevitable emotional bombardment. 

Anger flashed across the Confessor’s eyes, before quickly melting back into sorrow, then relief. Then she was burying her head in Cara’s shoulder again. The slight shake of Kahlan’s shoulders indicated she was crying. This time Cara’s hands found a home on her waist, fingers grasping it firmly.

“I told you I would never allow you to Confess me against my will,” Cara whispered.

Kahlan pulled back slightly and Cara winced, thinking she might be getting slapped again. Instead, it was incredulous disbelief. “That isn’t just something you can _decide_ Cara.”

Cara raised her brows. “Apparently _it is_ ,” she challenged. 

Kahlan huffed, shook her head, but then she was kissing her. Just for a couple beats. Cara let her take what she needed. Closing her eyes and enjoying the feel and taste of Kahlan’s tear stained lips moving gently against her own, warm fingers coming to lightly brush against her cheek.

When the Confessor leaned back, she rested her forehead against Cara’s. “After I released my power… I could read you. I thought you were gone,” her voice cracked with emotion. “I thought you were gone.”

Cara felt her own throat thicken. Confession was… thrilling. Kahlan’s power slamming into her. Surrounding her. Moving through her. But not taking her. Before the power fully receded, she knew it would not take her. But she also knew, if they were going to stop Rahl, she would have to make it convincing. Fortunately, in that moment, in the face of the raw emotion of what had just happened, it was not hard to let herself _be seen_. 

She felt her brow furrow, still pressed against Kahlan, but her eyes turned to the ground. “Do we really need to talk about this right now?”

Kahlan smiled softly. “No.”

“Thank the Creator,” muttered a voice from behind them. And Cara remembered there was a second person she wouldn’t mind ending today. She reluctantly pulled her hands from Kahlan and turned around. 

Hands tied, dirty, sitting on the ground, power still bound by the Rada’Han, Nicci looked up at her defiantly. “I see a lot has changed since the last time we met.” Cara could almost _see_ the gears in her head turning, searching for a way out of her latest predicament.

“You mean the last time I killed you?” Cara grinned wickedly and pulled her dagger. It had been surprisingly satisfying to end Rahl with it. “I will be happy to accommodate you again.”

“If it will end this drivel, I might welcome it.” Cara took a step forward and Nicci’s false bravado faltered. A moment of fear flashed across her face before she quickly added. “But you _really_ don’t want to do that.”

Cara tossed a questioning gaze back over her shoulder to Kahlan. “Why do people keep saying that?”

But Kahlan was looking at Nicci. “Why not?”

Cara sighed and straightened. This was going to be a whole thing now, wasn’t it?

Nicci smiled and gestured her bound hands at the spell on the ground. “Do you know how to deconstruct that without triggering an unintended reaction? You can’t just have your pet here sweep it up, you know. Let me go, and I will take care of it for you.”

Kahlan’s eyes narrowed, considering the Sorceress. 

“We should just kill her,” Cara insisted. “We have the journey book back. We can contact Zedd and find out what to do. She is too dangerous.”

A loud ruckus from the corridor momentarily drew Cara’s attention from the witch. She drew an Agiel to pair with the dagger she still held, just as a blur of red barrelled into the room. Rikka, Hally and Galina pulled up short. Rikka gave the room a once over, her eyes landing on Cara for a moment, she raised a questioning brow. Cara nodded once, and her Sister nodded back, then slapped Hally on the shoulder. “We’ll secure the Temple. You two stay with the Mother Confessor.” Then Rikka was gone back out into the hall, shouting orders as the parade of red leather continued on. 

Galina glanced around at the array of corpses. “Well, you guys have been busy.”

Cara smirked. “How’s it going out there?”

“As you know, Dragon Corp fight to the death, so most of them now are. We are currently sweeping the area for anyone left. We had a slight problem when a couple cowards tried to use the civilians as human shields. We didn’t think the Mother Confessor would appreciate if we just fought our way through it. But thanks to Captain Meiffert’s quick thinking, we didn’t have to. He stripped the armour off a couple dead soldiers and he and Rutenberg slipped in and took care of it.” Galina dragged her finger across her neck to indicate how.

“Any casualties?” Kahlan asked.

Galina looked down. “We lost three, were able to bring back one. But Amber’s injuries were too great, and Mila fell unnoticed. By the time we found her body, it was too late to bring her back. The Captain also lost two men. And there are some injuries.”

“So, the breath of life still works?” Cara confirmed. Galina nodded, and Cara realized the normally wont-shut-up Hally had yet to speak a word since entering the room. She looked a little washed out. The protective streak Cara would never admit to having flared up. “Are you injured?” she asked, taking a half step forward. 

Hally let out a huff of a laugh. “ _Am I injured_? Cara, Berdine said you were _Confessed_ , and then Rikka…” Her younger Sister trailed off, schooling the emotion so open on her face. Her gaze fell to the body of Darken Rahl. “You slit his throat?”

Cara nodded once. Not wanting to call further attention to Hally’s outburst of feelings in front of another Sister. Things may be different now with Kahlan. But Mord-Sith still had their pride. She would talk to Hally later. “We should still burn the body to be sure. You want the honour?”

“There are Sisters far more deserving of that, than I,” Hally smirked. “But I will certainly gather fuel for the fire.” Her pale blue eyes shifted over to Nicci. “Is that the witch?”

“Yes,” Cara stated. “We were just about to kill her.”

“Cara,” Kahlan interrupted.

“ _Kahlan_ ,” Cara turned an intense stare on the Confessor. “She almost got you killed with her ridiculous spell and then c _onfessed you._ You cannot seriously think it’s a good idea to let her breathe another breath.”

“Which is why I am going to confess her.”

Nicci barked out a laugh. “You can’t confess me. I have a piece of your Han.”

“What are you talking about? Y _ou_ confessed _me with_ it.”

Nicci looked far too satisfied. “You are a Confessor. I should not have been able to confess you at all. But I wield powers you cannot even begin to understand.”

“Which is why we should kill her,” Cara reiterated slowly. 

Kahlan however was storming forward, bending down and wrapping her fingers around Nicci’s throat. For the second time in half a mark, thunder without sound rattled the room, shaking dust and loose plaster from the ancient walls. Cara missed that part the first time. Only feeling the intensity of everything that was Kahlan, slamming through her. She couldn’t think about that now though. Because as the magic receded, it became abundantly clear she wasn’t the only one here who couldn’t be confessed. 

Nicci grinned up victoriously, even as Kahlan shoved her hard against the wall.

“We should kill her,” she told Kahlan again, as the Confessor stepped back in frustration. 

“Not yet.”

Cara sighed. This was asking for trouble.

“I know Cara,” Kahlan agreed with her unspoken thought. “But we need to contact Zedd first, talk to Berdine. Unfortunately, she is not lying about consequences if we don’t deal with the sand correctly.” She wiped a hand over her face. “Nothing’s ever easy.” 

The next several marks were a whirl wind of activity. Nicci was to be kept under a constant watch, by no less than three guards, until they could find out how to deal with the sand. Zedd was written to immediately. A detailed sketch sent of the design and colours of the sand, so he could set to work on the safest way to deconstruct the spell form. He could be caught up on the rest of the events of the past week later. For now, there was enough to do.

During her sweep of the Temple, Rikka found several ancient artifacts and weapons, as well as the two Sisters of the Dark that Erica had mentioned they’d taken captive. Rahl had them stashed in another room, their hands and mouths were bound tightly to keep them from attempting any sort of magic. They looked in rough shape, and Cara wondered how much they had been allowed to eat or drink since Rahl had lost his Mord-Sith. 

Not that she held an abundance of sympathy for any Sister of the Dark. They did after all work for the Keeper, doing whatever they could to advance his agenda of ending all life. But if you weren’t going to keep your prisoners in a useful state, just end them already.

They were given sustenance, under the strict supervision of several Mord-Sith at the ready. Then rebound and moved into a room closer to the central chamber, to also be watched over until their ultimate fate could be decided. The artifacts were left where they were until they could be further examined.

When she finally emerged from the Temple, Cara had to fight off a myriad of reactions from her Sisters as the premature rumour of her Confession had already spread. She found Berdine helping Raina clean up a cut on the side of her face. She looked… sad. Defeated even. It was almost too much for Cara. She almost turned around and went the other way. Someone else would tell her eventually. But _of course,_ Berdine looked up. Fortunately, she didn’t have to _explain_ anything. Only tilt her head and shrug.

“Bags,” Berdine swore as she stood up from her crouch. “I should have known you were too stubborn to ever be Confessed.” She stepped forward and slapped Cara on the arm. “I suppose those dramatics were just so you could be the one to kill him?”

Cara smirked briefly, then her face became serious. “I spoke of you,” her eyes dropped to Raina then back, “you both, as I twisted the knife.”

The hand on her shoulder tightened in thanks. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Cara twitched at the sentiment, but nodded just the same. Mercifully Berdine left the questions of _how_ aside for now. She did not feel like being dissected at the moment. Besides, the how didn’t really matter to her. She caught Kahlan’s furtive glance from a few yards away, where she was checking in with various Sisters, and twitched again for an entirely different reason. The Confessor’s eyes were burning. Mischievous. Cara swallowed hard, resisting the urge to check over her shoulder to be sure that look was being directed _at her._ Because somehow, inexplicably, it was.

Instead, she checked the position of the sun in the sky. Night couldn’t come fast enough.

\--------------

Several Mord-Sith and soldiers were sent to start moving their gear and horses closer to the Pillars, from where they had been left a few marks away. They would have to make camp here, until they could deal with the Sorcerer’s Sand. Berdine had found a quiet corner somewhere and was going through the spell book again for anything that might help the First Wizard. 

After the injured were tended to, Kahlan decided to kill two birds with one stone. She would confess the few Dragon Corp they had managed to take prisoner, then order them to escort the civilians Rahl had enslaved to dig out the Temple, back to their homes. Most of the captives were farmers who’d been taken from villages east of the Kern. The confessed soldiers would also be ordered to stay and help with the harvests that would soon come due. As well as see to any other needs of the towns that suffered from taking their men and women.

Cara watched this from part way up the ridge. The feeling of Kahlan’s power reverberating through the air over and over was something she could probably do without at the moment. She was still trying to fully regain her footing after what had happened. 

She had been fully prepared to lose herself. To be taken by Confession and essentially die. Whatever had to be done to stop Rahl. _To protect Kahlan_. But in that split second before Kahlan’s eyes swirled black, she _knew_ she would be alright. She knew…

“Cara,” a hesitant voice came from beside her. “I was wondering if I could have a minute.”

She wondered when Richard was going to show his face again. She hadn’t seen heads or tails of him since he was escorted from the Temple. Berdine had assured he got away alright and had gone off behind the Temple somewhere. But she had been too busy to go looking for him, and frankly she wasn’t sure she cared. His impulsiveness had gone too far this time. Almost cost them everything. Put Kahlan in danger.

She glanced over. The Seeker looked ragged and hallow. She only nodded in response, then returned her gaze to the Confessor below, who was giving her extensive instructions to her newly Confessed.

Richard let out a relieved sigh. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am.” He shook his head, “I know this won’t mean much to you anymore. You have been such a good friend, and now you’re like this because of me…”

Wait. Did Richard still think she was confessed? 

“When we get back to Aydindril,” he continued, “I’ll talk to Zedd. We’ll find a way to reverse this.”

“Before or after you get him to reverse Kahlan’s bond with the Mord-Sith?” she asked dryly.

“That’s not fair, Cara, I… wait. _Kahlan_? Don’t you mean your Mistress?”

She turned a glare on him. But instead of flinching he smiled brightly. If he tried to hug her, he was getting an Agiel. “Cara! You’re alright? But how? I watched…”

“I am much stronger than Confession,” she stated, and once again looked down the ridge. 

The Seeker also fell silent. After a few moments, Cara chanced a side-glance. His brow was furrowed deep in thought. “Cara, how, do,” Richard stumbled over his words. He paused again, letting out a long breath. “Do you love…”

She quickly cut him off. “I am sure it has something to do with the bond,” she stated firmly. It was probably true. She didn’t need to be Berdine to know their magics were literally connected now. It made sense. But whatever the reason, she certainly wasn’t going to be confronting _that word_ for the first time to _Richard_. Not that she felt _that._ Or didn’t. She rolled her eyes inwardly at herself. 

Words were not her forte. As far as she was concerned words need never be spoken. But she could show it. _Would show it_. Somehow. She scowled as Richard interrupted her thoughts again. He already apologized. Why were they still talking?

“You’re probably right,” Richard agreed, not sounding completely sure he agreed. “I am just glad you’re alright. Maybe now I have a hope in the Underworld of Kahlan actually forgiving me for all of this.”

This time Cara rolled her eyes outwardly. “Well, I’m glad my continued existence will help with your grovelling.” 

Richard sighed. “That’s not what I meant Cara. Its just, when she looked at me… she’s really mad.”

“Of course, she is mad Richard. We had the situation in hand. Rahl was done for. But you had to run off and play hero because why? You didn’t agree with _how_ it was being done?”

“I was only trying to do what you all have been wanting me to do, and take responsibility! _Embrace my duty.”_ The Seeker’s frustration was evident in his tone. “The Prophecies are about _me_ , stopping the coming darkness. It was _my_ job.”

“No, Richard,” Cara felt her own temper flaring. “Your job is the Seeker. Your _job Is the Lord Rahl._ Your job is not to pick and choose prophecies that make your life sound the way you want it and try to force them to happen.”

The Seeker was quiet another long moment. “I thought I could do it,” his voice was small now. “I thought if the Mord-Sith made it to the Pillars first, they would betray us, and Rahl would win. I was only doing what I thought was best.”

Cara let out a long breath. That much was probably true. Even if it was incredibly stupid. And selfish. And stupid again.

“I need to talk to Kahlan.”

Speaking of stupid. Cara had her arm out to stop him before he made it a step. “You better give her some time to cool down first Richard. She isn’t going to get over this one so easily.”

Richard looked from Cara, down to Kahlan and back to Cara again. He finally sighed and nodded, then walked off again in the opposite direction. 

\--------------

After a long day, camp was finally set up behind the Pillars of Creation, where they had laid in wait that morning to attack. Several large fires burned, lighting up the fading sky. The summer nights coming a little sooner now, the first sign that fall would soon be arriving. Cara was just finishing her bowl of stew, soaking up the last of the gravy with a hunk of bread, then she put the bowl on the ground between her feet. It was a well earned and hardy meal after an incredibly long day. 

A couple bottles of D’haran Whiskey had somehow appeared and were making the rounds. Cara had taken one drink to toast the victory, but then passed on any further. She intended on keeping her full wits about her this evening. 

Her eyes set across the flames on Kahlan, who was chatting about something with Berdine. Probably something related to the sand, or one of their numerous magical prisoners, or maybe even the artifacts they had found amongst Rahl’s things. Obviously, she was going to have to make an effort to keep those two from spending too much time together in the future. Neither would ever relax with the other always having a problem to be solved.

She was sure she could enlist Raina to aid her in this matter. 

Her lip curled up. She certainly could think of several ways to help the Confessor relax. Though, none of which she would likely appreciate in the middle of a crowded campfire. Cara looked up at the sky for not the first time that day. The sun wasn’t even fully set yet. The tents were still going up. It had been a busy day, and she was itching to get Kahlan alone. They hadn’t had even a moment since Rikka had burst into the spell chamber.

Her eyes drifted back to Kahlan’s face, then downwards. She always appreciated that white Confessor’s dress. The way it cut in all the right places. Cara’s hands flexed at the thought of pulling at the ties, sliding the material down across her shoulders.

Kahlan caught her eye briefly, furrowed her brow at the scrutiny, then suddenly blushed as if she could read Cara’s thoughts. She immediately returned her attention to Berdine. 

Cara faltered a moment. Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself. Just because Kahlan had kissed her, didn’t mean she was going to jump into bed with her at the first opportunity. Her mind wandered back to the Confessor’s protest, months earlier, when Cara had been shocked that she hadn’t jumped into the Seeker’s bed after their first visit to the Pillars.

_Thank the Spirits for that._

But Kalan had insisted that she was the Mother Confessor, and it would not be appropriate because he was not her official mate. Was Kahlan going to make them wait? Creator, was she going to have to get _married?_

Cara shook her head vigorously. Maybe not drinking was a mistake. She searched around the fire for the location of the nearest bottle, but she saw Kahlan staring at her again. A little more intently this time. A small curl playing on her lips. Cara smirked back. Kahlan _had_ been the one so insistent on finding a Rada’Han.

When the bottle came around, she passed on it again.

A few minutes later Hally approached the Confessor, tossing Cara a small smile and a nod. After things calmed down a bit, Cara had pulled Hally aside, into one of the empty chambers in the temple, to ask again if she was alright. Hally just nodded then pulled her into a hug. Cara let her, and maybe, after several marks under an Agiel, would possibly admit to hugging her back. Slightly. Really more of a pat on the back with one hand. It was her own fault after all, if Hally was a little soft. She should have been harder on her as an apprentice. 

“Your tent is ready Mother Confessor.” Hally tossed Cara another smile, this one a little more impish. “Whenever you want it.”

Kahlan followed Hally’s eyes to Cara, before blushing profusely. When she looked back at Berdine, the brunette Mord-Sith was grinning too. Her face fell flat and she coughed. “Okay. Well. It’s been quite a day,” she rose and looked at the not yet fully dark sky. “I think I’m going to turn in.” 

She glanced briefly at Cara, stepped to move away, then stopped and turned back.

The Confessor caught her gaze again, stiff back, chin high. “Cara. When you have a moment, may I speak with you in the tent?”

Cara arched a brow at the formality. “You may.”

Kahlan nodded firmly, then promptly walked off. 

It took all Cara’s strength not to sprint after her. She did have her dignity after all. And there were far too many amused eyes focused on her now. She levelled a glare at her Sisters, which only seemed to egg them on.

“You really shouldn’t keep the Mother Confessor waiting, Cara.” Hally grinned.

“Now-now,” Berdine reached up and patted the younger Mord-Sith’s leg. “I don’t think Cara here understands what’s about to happen.” She looked up in faux contemplation before speaking again. “You see Cara, sometimes two adults get… an urge. So they come together to share a special hug.”

“Creator, what are you all being fitted for your first pair of leathers?” 

“We are just concerned Mistress Cara.” Of course, Galina had to put in her two bits as well. At least Rikka was elsewhere. “You represent us all. If you do not perform well, it will reflect badly on our ability to please our Lady.”

“Maybe I should go instead,” Berdine started to rise. Raina rolled her eyes and hauled her back down. 

Cara rolled hers too and decided to make her exit. “Goodnight,” she said firmly, before adding with a smirk. “Don’t wait up.”

“Wait, Cara!” Berdine called before she got too far. Cara rolled her head around. Berdine was pointing to her former seat. “Aren’t you going to clean your dishes?”

\---------

The few dozen yards across the dry earth to the command tent was perhaps the longest walk of Cara’s life. She had no reason to be nervous. After all, _this_ she was good at. But this was also _Kahlan._ For the longest time she refused to allow herself even the fantasy of the fantasy because it seemed so unattainable, and Mord-Sith do _not_ pine. 

She was so lost in her own thoughts she almost ran straight into Rikka.

Because _of course_ Rikka was guarding the tent. 

Her obnoxiously taller Sister smirked. “Go get her tiger.” 

Cara just sighed and pushed past through the flap. “You wanted to speak with me?” she asked casually before coming up straight. Kahlan was standing near the end of the bed, chewing on her lip, looking at her shyly. For a moment Cara could only stare at her. In utter disbelief that _this_ was real. Maybe she hadn’t survived Confession. Perhaps it killed her, and she was in some fevered dream in the afterlife. 

Kahlan smiled, pulling Cara out of her trance, and the rest of the view came into focus. The table had not been set up. Instead, the sides of the tent were lined with crates, on which were far more candles than necessary to light the space. And were those _flower petals_ on the bed? “I’m going to _kill_ Hally,” she muttered. 

Kahlan’s bright laugh drew her attention back. They were staring again. A beat. Two. Cara pulled off her gloves, tossing them aside. Then they were both moving. Crashing together. Kahlan actually _whimpered_ as their lips met, and Cara thought she might die on the spot. She wrapped one arm around Kahlan’s waist, hand coming to rest on the small of her back, pulling her tight. The other she brought up to tease at the back of the Confessor’s neck. 

She nipped lightly at Kahlan’s bottom lip and was rewarded with the feel of fingers digging hard into her ribs. Cara groaned, then almost died _again_ when it was _Kahlan_ who took advantage and deepened the kiss.

Suddenly and unceremoniously, Cara felt herself being spun and shoved back. The backs of her knees hit the bed and the next thing she knew, she was sitting with Kahlan straddling her lap. 

The Confessor looked down at her, pupils blown, breathing heavy. Abruptly her brow twitched and she let out a little huff. 

“What is it?” Cara asked softly, letting her hands gently slide up firm thighs, thumbs teasing at the edge where the dress had ridden up.

Kahlan bit her lip and grimaced. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Cara couldn’t help but laugh as she looked poignantly down at their joined laps. “You could have fooled me.” She let her fingertips dip under the fabric ever so slightly. Kahlan, blushing, buried her head against Cara’s shoulder. 

“Do whatever you want,” she whispered, before taking the opportunity to decorate the Confessor’s neck with several open-mouthed kisses, letting one linger a moment just behind the ear. Her lips pulled into a smile at the shaky breath it drew out. “You have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?”

It was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but Kahlan being Kahlan, naturally drew back and asked. “How long?” she breathed.

Cara wanted to roll her eyes, but the raw look on Kahlan’s face froze her. Compelled her to answer. She had buried it for so long, it was impossible to pick a moment. “I don’t know Kahlan,” her voice was more ragged than she expected. “Maybe the last time we were here? Dunshire?” She shook her head, “Creator, I’m still not sure you didn’t confess me that first day in the Drowning Cave, because I just…” She looked down, biting off her words. That was far more than she had intended to say. 

Instead of becoming all weepy with feelings, when she looked back up, Kahlan’s eyes were dark and hungry. The Confessor surged forward and captured her lips again. Ravenous. Desperate. Cara pushed back with equal fervour, before tearing her mouth away to leave a trail of bruising kisses down Kahlan’s throat. To her chest. To the cleavage always so deliciously teasing along the cut of her dress. 

Kahlan moaned. 

Cara’s fingers twitched in response, and she finally, _finally_ , let them pull away those ties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the days since I finished the last chapter were a whirlwind. Originally, I thought pretty much everything from arriving to kill Rahl, through to the end would be one chapter. When I realized it was too long, I took advantage of the break to torment you all. (Because I am evil). But what I didn’t realize, until I left it hanging and thought about it for a moment, was HOW DAMN MUCH I LOVE the horribly painful idea of Kahlan Confessing Cara, and having to live with it.
> 
> I spent 3 days before I even touched the keyboard again, reeling so much with this new thought, that I almost scrapped everything I had planned for the ending and what comes out of it, in order to explore that beautiful pain. 
> 
> I knew I could make it real and solve it fairly quickly. I came up with some ideas. But then decided if I go down that road, I really want to explore it for a while. Dive into it. Feel what it would be like for Kahlan to have to live like that, and what that means for the relationships around her.
> 
> So I was either going to go all in with it or not. And in the end, that is why I stuck with my original vision. BUT LET ME TELL YOU< IT WAS REALLY HARD! I almost ditched this chapter several times. 
> 
> But I purposely set a mostly light tone with this story. I have maintained all along I wanted it to be a fun story, an enjoyable ride! And in order to write Confessed Cara the way I would want, it would have been a HUGE departure in tone to suddenly go so dark. 
> 
> Also, my original ideas deserve some love too. 
> 
> I can always come back to this gloriousness later. Either write a divergent cannon from that point in the story, or just write an entire new story, as its something I really want to explore now.
> 
> But for now, we are sticking to our path. Fun and Flirty with Mord-Sith fun, and occasional angst!
> 
> And I hope you can all eventually forgive me for jerking you around! I mean, really, Cara did it, not me. AND I DID give you a hint, when Cara whispered to Rahl and kicked his body. At least a couple of you picked up on that 😅
> 
> Also, maybe this chapter makes up for it a bit? Hopefully. I warned you all I didn’t do smut. Just writing this gave me an aneurysm. Writing making out is even harder than writing believable fight scenes!
> 
> We have a bit of a ride left. So enjoy this then buckle up for what will hopefully actually really be the last chapter next time!


	36. Chapter 36

Cara opened her eyes as she stretched out under the fur quilt. It had been far too long since she had slept in the nude. She missed how freeing it felt. She smirked then, remembering exactly _why_ she was waking up naked, and turned her head to the side. 

That was followed quickly with a huff and a roll of the eyes. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“It’s not often that I wake up before you. I had to take advantage.” Kahlan grinned playfully from beside her. Head on her hand, curled in a ball. “You looked so peaceful.”

Cara scowled. Kahlan laughed softly. Cara, never one to give in, rolled onto her side, propped herself up on one arm and allowed the blanket to fall away. As expected, pink began to spread across the Confessor’s cheeks. After everything they had done last night, it was almost preposterous that Kahlan could get so flustered so easily. But at the same time, Cara hoped it never stopped. “Did you sleep well, Confessor?”

Kahlan bit her lip and smiled. “I did.” Her brow twitched almost imperceptibly, but Cara caught it. 

She sat up more fully, “what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Kahlan assured, freeing her arm from the covers to grasp Cara’s hand. Cara only hooked a brow in response. Calling her out. Kahlan laughed again. “ _Really_. I just never thought I could be with someone I… I never thought I could have this. Because of my power.” Her features fell a little. “Then I thought about yesterday, when I thought I had Confessed you and…”

“Hush.” Cara pulled her hand from Kahlan’s and pushed some hair away from the Confessor’s eyes. “I am fine.” A sly smirk crept onto her face. “And I think we have definitively proven that I cannot be Confessed.” 

Kahlan blushed and bit her lip again. “I suppose we did, didn’t we?”

Cara leaned down and brushed her lips against the Confessor’s. “I’d be happy to show you again, if you want.”

“ _Cara_.” It was a feeble protest against her mouth.

“Kahlan,” Cara murmured back, before tugging the blanket away to access the Confessor’s neck. A slow drag of the tongue elicited the most beautiful moan.

“Cara…”

“Mmm?”

“Aren’t you curious how?”

Cara exhaled loudly and pulled back. She wondered when this was coming. She looked blankly into the Confessor’s eyes. “No.”

Kahlan gave her a long indulgent look. 

Cara huffed. “Does it really matter? 

“I don’t know.” She half smiled. “I guess I just wonder. Was it the bond, or maybe… maybe Zedd was right all along?” Her gaze faltered and she looked away almost timidly before quickly adding, “I mean its not every day Confession fails.”

“I don’t know, it failed twice yesterday,” Cara deadpanned, trying to deflect. This was angling dangerously close to _feelings_ talk and it was making her itchy. Was Kahlan really going to make her say these things?

She must have been frowning because suddenly there was a finger massaging the wrinkles out of her forehead. “You’re right,” Kahlan whispered, then stretched up to kiss her. “It doesn’t matter.”

Instead of leaning into it however, Cara sat back with a sigh. It didn’t feel right. Kahlan mollifying her this way. “I don’t know why,” she said, staring at her hands. “But the moment before you released your power, well… the idea that you could destroy me felt… impossible. And I knew I would be okay.” She ran out of words. Continued to look down.

The blankets rustled beside her and a hand was pulling at her cheek. “Cara.” She followed the demand of both hand and voice, and turned to Kahlan. She was sitting up too now, blanket pooling at her waist, sky blue eyes as intent as she’d ever seen them. “I love you.”

Cara jerked slightly, but the firm hand on her face held her steady. 

“But I don’t need you to say it to me. To say _anything_ to me. You show me every day. With your actions.” Reflexively Cara frowned and Kahlan rolled her eyes. “You really going to try and deny it? You _volunteered to be Confessed_ to protect me.”

“If I didn’t do it, my Sisters would have,” Cara defended. “If anything, I was protecting them.”

Kahlan hooked a brow. “And when you ran through the camp naked to defend me?”

“It is a Mord-Sith’s _duty_ to defend her Lady, no matter the state of dress.” Cara kept her tone matter of fact, but had to force back the smile pulling at her lip.

Kahlan leaned in, eyes challenging. “And when you hold me because I’m upset? Let me sleep on you?”

“If your mind is unfocused or tired, it puts us all in danger.”

“Well, you certainly have an answer for everything, don’t you?” she smiled

“ _Always,”_ Cara was grinning now too. Finally allowing herself to enjoy the expanse of flesh the Confessor had put on display. “Would you like to see my answer for ending this conversation?” She brought her fingers to settle on Kahlan’s ribs, just below the curve of her breast, squeezing lightly as she slowly closed the gap between their mouths. 

“Let it never be said that the Mother Confessor does not have stamina.”

“Berdine!” Kahlan squeaked, diving back under the blanket. “ _What are you doing in here?_ ”

The brunette Mord-Sith stood grinning, one hand on her hip, book tucked under her arm, waving around a half-eaten pear. “I came to see if you killed Cara. It is several marks after dawn now. She never sleeps this late.”

The Confessor was brighter than the Mord-Sith’s leathers. “And you didn’t think to knock.”

“I did, Mother Confessor, but you still haven’t installed a door.”

Cara rolled her eyes, sitting casually. “What do you want, Berdine?”

“Cara, cover yourself!” Kahlan reproached, staring red-faced at Cara’s still bared chest. 

“Don’t worry Mother Confessor,” Berdine assured. “Its nothing any of us haven’t seen before.”

Kahlan’s embarrassment morphed into a scowl. 

Cara sighed and pulled the covers up. “What do you want Berdine?” she asked again a little less patiently.

She finished chewing a bite of pear, then tapped at the book she was carrying with the back of her hand. “The wizard has sent his instructions, and if I wasn’t mistaken, _Mistress Cara,_ your exact words were _tell me the Creator-damned minute we know, so we can clean this shit up and get the hell out of here_!”

Cara only narrowed her eyes.

“Come on now,” Berdine waved her pear in the air again, “I would have waited if you were on the good stuff.”

“Is that all, Berdine?” Kahlan asked with forced patience, before Cara could launch herself from the bed to throttle her Sister. 

“No, actually,” the Mord-Sith’s face soured. “The Seeker came by. Several times in fact.”

Cara could _feel_ more than hear the Confessor’s sigh. It made her want to seek out the damned Seeker and beat him over the head with his own sword. What part of give Kahlan some space was so hard for him to understand? “You can’t be serious?”

“Afraid so. Rikka said he came by just after you went to bed,” she smirked, “yesterday barely evening, wishing to speak with the Mother Confessor. She told him after the events of the day you were not to be disrupted, but that didn’t stop him from trying again a mark later. Then about a half mark after sunrise this morning he stormed by the tent. He didn’t look happy.” Berdine bobbed her head, “well he rarely looks happy, but he definitely looked less mopey, and more angry-unhappy.”

“Okay.” Cara heaved a sigh. Moody Richard was the last thing she wanted to deal with. He had no right to be upset about anything. She glanced over at Kahlan. Well, perhaps maybe a little right. But still. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Berdine nodded as she exited, pausing a moment at the flap. “Should I have your breakfast prepared for you Mother Confessor, or are you going to be _indisposed_ a while yet?”

Cara threw her pillow. Berdine smirked and ducked out. Cara shook her head. 

Unfortunately, Kahlan no longer looked in the mood to be _indisposed._

“Don’t worry about it,” Cara asserted. “He was always going to find out, and he was always going to have to live with it.”

Kahlan let out a long noisy breath. “So, you think he knows then?”

He did seem suspicious of the reason Cara had not been Confessed. Perhaps even before that, if she thought about it. As for Kahlan’s part, he likely would have some trouble believing the Confessor could care for anybody but him. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Cara grinned smugly. “I mean you weren’t exactly quiet.”

Kahlan turned a feverish red and slapped at Cara’s arm. 

“What?” she defended. “It’s not my fault the tent only muffles noise. And you certainly can’t tell me you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

The Confessor levelled her an even stare, but Cara could see the corners of her lips struggling to stay flat. She leaned in, peppering the edges of her mouth with soft kisses until it loosened into a full tight-lipped grin. “I will talk to him,” she whispered. “It will be fine.”

Kahlan furrowed her brow and shook her head. “I should do it. I mean, its me he thought he would have a future with.”

“No. No way,” Cara insisted. “You _already told him_ he wouldn’t. You will not be robbed of your opportunity to be angry with him, because you feel bad about this. I will tell him.” She sat up, looking for her leathers in whatever corner of the tent she tossed them the previous night. “He wronged you, taking off the way he did. Almost cost us everything. And next time you talk to him its going to be to yell at him for that.”

“Hey,” Kahlan tugged on her arm to gain her attention. “First off,” she said once she was sure she had it. “I do _not_ feel bad about _this.”_ As if to prove her point, she reached up, pulling Cara to her with a hand behind her neck. Cara most definitely went willingly. The kiss was slow, and deep, and it sent a jolt of heat right through her. From the first moment their lips touch, Cara knew it would be a life long addiction. That she would never get enough. And every time Kahlan initiated the contact it only amplified the allure. 

She was determined to revel in every second offered to her. Savour it. Lest one day Kahlan come to her senses and take it away. 

When the need for air became too great, she pulled back with a playful lick across the Confessor’s lips. “And secondly?” she asked, voice thick.

Kahlan’s brow twitched then she bit her lip. “I don’t remember,” she laughed helplessly.

Cara smirked, self-satisfied, planting one more chaste kiss before rolling away to search for her leathers once more. “Well, you will have time to remember while I go deal with Richard.” The sooner she got this over with the better. Then they could deconstruct that damn spell, and get the hell away from here. Maybe find a quiet place and take a few days to savour this victory before the next inevitable disaster comes knocking on their door. Somewhere with doors that lock. She found her pants and scooped them up.

“You don’t have to do this Cara. I can do it. Or we can go together if you’re so insistent on shielding me.”

“I am _not_ shielding you,” she scoffed defensively, scowling at Kahlan as she walked around the bed to pick up her belt and shirt. Though it was hard to scowl when she noticed the Confessor’s gaze following her appreciatively.

“Oh really?” Kahlan challenged back. “So, none of this is some attempt to keep Richard from directing his anger at me? So he can get it out of his system before I talk to him?”

Cara huffed and sat down by the Confessor’s feet. “Richard has no business being angry at anyone after what he did.” She knew she would get no argument from Kahlan on that. “It is simply more efficient for me to take care of this. If you go, you and the Seeker will be caught up in talk of _feelings_ for days and we will never get out of here.” She shook out her pants, readying to pull them on. “By nightfall, I plan to be far away from this place. You know,” She raised a provocative brow, “celebrating the victory.”

“Celebrating, huh?” Kahlan asked with a teasing smile.

Cara slipped her hand under the blanket and ran her hand up Kahlan’s calf. “Mmm, repeatedly.” 

The Confessor’s breath hitched in a way that almost made Cara toss her leathers aside again. 

“Does your duty allow for such things? Seems awfully indulgent for a Mord-Sith.”

“Oh, we know how to indulge, Confessor.” She let her fingers slide under her knee. Teasing the sensitive skin with gentle strokes.

Kahlan sunk back into her pillow. Cara forced herself to take her hand back before she got carried away.

“There is one thing I still don’t get though,” Kahlan sighed as Cara unsuccessfully attempted to engage her pants again.

Instead, she leaned over Kahlan, positively leering. “I will teach it to you later.”

The scarlet hue blossomed on the Confessor’s cheeks, travelled down her neck, and fully engulfed her chest. It was delicious. 

“No,” she slapped at Cara, then balked. “Well, maybe, yes,” she ducked her head, embarrassed. “But I meant with this whole thing. I mean, Shota said it would take a merging of powers to stop the coming darkness, and the Prophecies spoke of a light.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Creator knows what those Prophecies Richard brought referred to. He obviously chose them because they made it sound like he would end up with you.”

She would never admit she found the way Kahlan’s nose scrunched up at that adorable. 

Or that she ever so much as _thought_ the word adorable. 

“I don’t think the Sisters of the Light were concerned about the Seeker’s future family structure when they were searching the prophecies, Cara.”

Cara wasn’t so sure about that. They seemed pretty zealous when it came to forcing the future as they saw it. But whatever. “And as for the _merging of powers_ , you did that. In fact, it was your bond with the Mord-Sith that ruined any real chance at Rahl succeeding.” 

“Maybe,” Kahlan let out a noisy breath. “It just felt like it should be more, you know. When Shota spoke to me. She seemed unsettled, when she spoke of this darkness. Worried even. But there was no great power. This felt too easy.”

“You call that easy?”

Cara meant it as a joke, but at the flash across the Confessor’s eyes she knew she messed up. She was thinking about the previous morning again. Believing she had Confessed her. 

Cara sighed. She couldn’t leave Kahlan like this. Leaving her pants abandoned on the corner of the bed, she crawled over the Confessor to cover her with her body. Separated only by the thin fur of the quilt, she looked down at her intently. “I’m right here Kahlan.”

“I know,” she whispered back, still looking at little upset.

“Hmm,” Cara shook her head seriously. “It doesn’t sound like you do.” She slid her legs up to straddle the Confessors lap then ground down with her hips. Kahlan’s eyes darkened and she let out a little whine that _broke_ Cara in the most perfect way. “I’m right here,” she said again. “A thousand Gars couldn’t drag me away.”

Eyes locked, Kahlan’s arm slowly emerged from the blanket, rising to trace fingers down Cara’s face, down her throat, over her breast, finally settling on the taut muscles of her stomach. A smile finally spread across the Confessor’s face. “That’s a lot of Gars, even for you Cara.”

Cara grinned then surged forward, gently nipping at her bottom lip. “Let them try,” she murmured, before fully claiming Kahlan’s mouth.

The Seeker was going to have to wait.

\---------------

A little over a half mark later, after making sure the Confessor was thoroughly relaxed, Cara finally pulled on her leathers and emerged from the tent. The day was bright, causing her to squint a little to adjust to the change in light. 

When she did, it was Hally’s smiling face that greeted her. Cara immediately scowled. “Flower petals? Really Hally?”

She didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “It was Rikka’s idea, actually.” 

_Of course, it was._

“They were growing right beside the tent, what were we suppose to do?”

“I don’t know,” Cara snarled, “ _leave them in the ground?”_

“Well what fun would that be?”

Cara stared blankly. Hally’s face fell flat too. Then she reached out to touch Cara’s hair. She swatted the young blonde’s hand away, but she held it up with a grin. A bright yellow petal was pinched between her fingers. “Souvenir?” she laughed.

Cara pulled an Agiel and jammed it into Hally’s hip. It did nothing to stop the laughter, as she jumped out of range. “Come on now Cara. You saved the world. Got the girl. Smile a little.”

She just scowled again and shook her head. 

“Well,” Hally smiled again. “I am happy for you, even if you refuse to be happy for yourself.”

Cara sighed. She probably should have left Hally in the desert. “Have you seen the Seeker?”

“Fortunately, no. Why?” The blonde brightened. “Oh, are you finally going to kick his ass?”

“No.” Though it was definitely tempting. It was Kahlan’s place to do the ass kicking. “I need to speak with him.”

“Well then can I kick his ass?” Hally’s lip curled. “I gotta tell you Cara, the only reason that guy wasn’t gutted and thrown in the bonfire with Rahl was out of respect for the Mother Confessor.”

“I know,” Cara admitted as she walked away. It was hard to tell her Sisters no on this. What Richard did went against everything a Mord-Sith stood for. It was selfish and reckless. She hated to say it, but she hoped when Kahlan did finally talk to him, it ended with his being asked to travel back to Aydindril, or wherever he was heading, on his own. Friend or not, he could no longer be trusted to do what was right to keep Kahlan safe. And it would be a long month’s journey north with him moping around camp.

After making a couple more inquiries with no luck, Cara began to scale up the ridge. She had an idea of where the Seeker might be. 

It was going to be another hot day. And probably another long one. She couldn’t wait to be done with this wretched place. And she wanted to get Kahlan away from here. It was not secure. There were still too many of Rahl’s men in the area, with unknown orders, unaware of their Master’s defeat. 

And really, the sooner they got back to Aydindril, the better. Creator knew how the mass of Dragon Corp in the north was going to react when they realized Rahl was dead. For good this time. With no Lord Rahl to replace him. Frankly if Kahlan was looking for some darkness, a large contingent of Dragon Corp mulling about with nothing to lose would sure be capable of some disturbing behaviour.

She paused to think about Kahlan’s words. Perhaps there had been no dramatic showdown with flashing lights because they had stopped the problem before it could manifest. Or maybe it was something else just around the corner. It never seemed to end with them. One world saving mission after another. 

All the more reason to put this one behind them.

She found Richard right where she suspected. Right in the middle of the Pillars of Creation, where he had placed the Stone of Tears a couple months prior. Where Zedd declared his failure to be Confessed a result of his and Kahlan’s undying love. 

He was pacing around stiffly, staring at the alter. His body language screamed agitation. Restlessness.

This was going to be fun. 

She cleared her throat loudly causing the Seeker to jump, turning with his hand ready to draw his sword. Somehow, he managed to look simultaneously more relaxed and more tense when he saw Cara standing there. 

He narrowed his eyes, then turned back to the alter. “What do you want?” His voice was cold. Ragged.

“Berdine said you came by the tent. We should probably talk.”

Richard’s shoulders jerked in an obvious scoff, with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. She frowned at it then shook her head. 

“I wanted to speak to Kahlan. I have nothing to say to you.”

How easy it would be to just roll her eyes and walk away. She really was not equipped for this type of thing. But this needed to be hashed out. “Well regardless, I am here anyway. I guess you know then.” It wasn’t a question.

“I thought you were my friend, Cara. Then you go behind my back and do this?”

“Richard…”

“How long?” he ground out, looking back over his shoulder. “How long have you been hiding this? Running around. Making me look like a fool.”

Cara clenched her hand to keep from pulling an Agiel. Why must he always speak of Kahlan as if he had some right to her affections. “The only running around we have been doing is trying to find and stop Rahl,” she bit back, before adding more softly, “this came on… unexpectedly.”

Richard finally turned to face her. Anger and hurt was dancing in his eyes. And she knew the magic of the Sword of Truth was only feeding it. “You really expect me to believe that? Creator, Cara. I am the Seeker of Truth. I should have seen this coming. The signs where there.” His face scrunched up in pain. “You _bonded_ yourself to her for crying out loud.” He laughed abruptly. “Is this why you did it? So you can use some sort of magical connection to make her believe she feels for you?”

Cara’s hand twitched again. “Enough, Richard. Be mad at me all you want, hate me. But you will not insult Kahlan. She is her own person. And I certainly did not trick her into this.”

Anger flashed in the Seeker’s eyes again as he took a step forward. Then he suddenly looked like he was going to cry. “You know I spent the first month we travelled together trying to keep her from killing you. Speaking on your behalf. Trying to _convince her_ to just give you a chance.” He pushed his fingers over his eyes. “I guess this is the thanks I get.”

She let out a long sigh. “Richard. I will always be… grateful for what you did for me. And I hope one day you will be able to get past this and still consider me a friend.”

Richard shook his head. Looked at her steadily a long moment before he spoke again. “You really think you can be what she needs? You think once you are away from this little fantasy world travelling with your Sisters and back in Aydindril, you will bring anything but pain and chaos into her life?”

Cara pushed back at the fears of just that, that she knew still lurked within her. The Seeker was lashing out. And he had some rights to his pain. She let him vent.

“What of _Dennee_ , Cara? And her duties to the Midlands. How are you going to provide her with heirs?” Richard took another step forward. Her eyes dropped to where he was once again gripping the pommel of his sword, the anger regrouping. “Heirs she needs more than ever because of what _you_ did at Valeria.”

“I will not stand in the way of Kahlan’s duty.”

Richard scoffed again, shifting on his feet. Almost in her face now. “You speak of duty like that means something to you. You claimed duty to me once, remember?”

Cara cracked her neck, willing herself to be patient. “And I would have followed you to the People’s Palace would you have taken up your birthright Richard. You know that.”

“ _Do I?”_ he yelled in her face _._ “Or would you have just stabbed me in the back and taken the throne for yourself?”

“You should take your hand off the sword, Richard.”

He blinked, then snarled. “You think I’m angry _because of the sword_?” He took his hand off and raised his palms up as if to prove his point. “I love her, Cara. I _love her._ And she loves me!” He waved at the alter. “Just two months ago we stood here and we…” The Seeker’s eyes glossed over in pain. He looked down. Defeated. “I was going to give her everything. You’re _Mord-Sith._ You can’t… I can give her what she needs.”

Cara let out a long sigh. “But its not what she wants, Richard.”

His brow twitched. His eyes rose up full of hate and his hand quickly followed. Richard wrapped his fingers tight around her throat and before she could even move a muscle in response, his eyes swirled black. Thunder without sound rocked the air. And a sensation becoming all too familiar slammed through her body. 

As soon as the magic cleared, the Seeker was stumbling back, pale as a ghost. “Cara! Are you okay? I’m sorry… I… I didn’t mean to…”

Cara stood shocked. Her brain struggling to make sense of what just happened. Then it hit her. The sword. It had been in the Temple. Left from when Rahl had taken Richard captive. They had yet to return it to him. 

Her voice was calm, but dangerous. “What did you do Richard?”

For the second time in a matter of moments she was caught off guard. This time with a knee to the gut, leaving her gasping for air as the Seeker fled over the edge of the ruins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was SO tempting to leave that on another "did Cara get Confessed?" cliff-hanger, but I didn't want to get murdered, LOL
> 
> And I am not even going to try and say it this time. But I'm not done. We definitely need some Kahlan POV post everything that has happened. I just... am never going to mention when anything may or may not be done again. For now on, it just goes on until I say so, (But also, really... just one more chapter.)
> 
> I mean, really believed it this time. But I went on waaaay longer than I intended in bed there, and if I kept going the chapter was going to get SO long. 
> 
> But hey! It turns out Richard can get worse!
> 
> Also, I went back and forth on the Cara is allergic to flowers thing. Even made some jokes, then cut them. I went against it, because I like to think Cara only said that to get Leo away from her, 😂
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and the Comments! They are my fuel! Thank you so much for being engaged!


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry this took a little longer than usual. Was under the weather a couple days, then it took a bit to get my writing mojo back. Also this was a hard chapter to write, for reasons.
> 
> But I did it, this is actually it! sorta... I'll explain after!
> 
> Enjoy, and thank you for all your support through this journey!

Kahlan ran her hands through her hair and then stretched them out over her head. “Five more minutes,” she said to no one, then grinned at herself.

She had said that three times now. 

She couldn’t seem to drag herself from the bed. She didn’t want to leave the tent. Go back to the real world of volatile spells and disgruntled Seekers.

But this was the real world now, she reminded herself. 

Cara _was_ real. 

Last night she had experienced something she never thought she could have. For most of her life, never dared to even dream about. But even when she did allow herself to dwell in the fantasy… _Spirits_ it didn’t compare.

Cara was… extraordinary. All that attentiveness and intensity she carries herself with, all focused on her. Being free to sink into it, to lose herself in it. Without fear of repercussions. To just _be_ with Cara. It was shattering. 

Cara was hers _._

She grinned again, tracing her hand down her neck, slowly charting its way across her body, following the path Cara’s mouth had taken barely more than a few minutes ago. Her skin began to gooseflesh and she blushed. Then cursed herself for blushing. It just all felt so unreal. 

She wished she could stay in the bed, wait for Cara to return. But she had to get up. There was too much to deal with still. And really, the longer she lay there, the more she felt guilty that Cara went off to talk to Richard alone. Sure, she didn’t want Richard to feel ganged up on facing both of them together, and she was still so angry with him for storming off after Rahl alone. She was as likely to break his head off, as to gently break her feelings for Cara to him.

His recklessness almost cost them everything. _Almost cost her Cara._ If she hadn’t of been somehow immune…

A shudder went through her, and she had to force away a wave of dread. Ironic, that what would have been the most painful and crippling moment of her life, is what ultimately allowed her to be _here_ right now. Still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to be grateful for it. Those minutes when she thought Cara had been Confessed, felt like her soul had been ripped out and stretched across the entire earth. 

Creator, what was Richard thinking. Not just to go after Rahl alone, but to walk in there carrying all the correspondence and information they had gathered over the past months. He may as well have been working on Darken Rahl’s behest. 

She was sure once all the anger over this settled out, she would still want Richard to be in her life as a friend. They had been through too much. But she didn’t think she would ever be able to trust him again. Not enough to confide in him. Include him in her inner circle. Have him fight at her side. 

In fact, it was probably best if he made his own way back home, alone. Take some time apart. She hadn’t seen much of him since Rahl’s men had escorted him out of the Temple. But whenever he did come into her view, it was from following a murderous glare from a Mord-Sith. She was sure the only thing stopping the red-leathered warriors from taking a round out of the Seeker was difference to her. And she was not sure how long that would last. He was a danger to their Lady now. She knew he would not be tolerated. And she could not bring herself to disagree.

How much the world has changed so fast. Where she now trusts a band of Mord-Sith to watch her while she sleeps and cannot trust Richard with anything.

She sighed and finally rolled to a sit. She really should get up and find Cara. She shouldn’t have to do this alone. Besides, there was still the spell to deal with, and Nicci, and the Sisters of the Dark. It would be great to get finished and away from here. Onto the other mountain of problems waiting. The Dragon Corp in Portree, what to do about the young girls and women still training to be Mord-Sith somewhere in the east. And of course the mass of troops near Toth‘Rang.

And that didn’t even begin to touch the long list of political issues that were likely awaiting the return of the Mother Confessor in Aydindril. Not the least of which was the _Mother Confessor_ introducing the former bane of the Midlands as her new personal guard. 

At least she would have Cara with her. Kahlan smiled again as she reached to retrieve her corset and Confessor’s dress from the ground, but quickly sat back as a now familiar wave of dizziness overtook her. More bonding Mord-Sith. Quite a few of them. “I guess Solvig reached the next Temple.” She shook her head vigorously, regaining her bearings. 

She would have to have a conversation with Berdine and Cara. Decide how and when to rally the rest of the Mord-Sith to her. 

Add it to the list.

\-------------

When she stepped out of the tent, Hally was there waiting, grinning ear to ear. “Mother Confessor. I trust you had a good night?”

Kahlan was immediately overcome by a flush of embarrassment, but it was quickly followed by an uncontrollable smile of her own. “I did.”

Somehow Hally grinned even brighter. “ _I bet you did_.”

She cleared her throat and casually scanned the camp. “Have you seen Cara?”

“Hmm… Berdine mentioned you were insatiable.”

“ _Hally,”_ Kahlan turned her gaze back in disbelief. 

The young blonde threw her hands up in defence. “I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I couldn’t resist. You just, you look really happy. And so does Cara.”

Another irrepressible smile tugged at Kahlan’s lips. “Cara looks happy?”

“Well, as happy as Cara ever looks. Light. Relaxed. I mean she barely even Agieled me for the flowers.”

_Mord-Sith._ Kahlan rolled her eyes. 

“Cara is Mord-Sith,” Hally went on. “And a damned stubborn one at that. But she still shows she cares in subtle ways. Usually by being protective.” She smirked. “Though, perhaps there was never anything subtle about the way she protected you.”

Kahlan chuckled softly, remembering even last night as Cara tried to shield her feelings behind to weak façade of duty. 

“Frankly I should have realized where this was headed the moment she introduced you as _travelling together_.” The Mord-Sith shook her head with a laugh. “I would be harder on myself for missing it, but I was distracted by that strange pull between us.”

“Creator that feels like a lifetime ago.” 

“That’s because it was a different life, a different world,” Hally smiled softly. “For the first time since I was taken, I am truly proud of what I am doing.” She smirked, “like actually proud, not that Mord-Sith bravado we are all trained in. And that is thanks to you.”

Kahlan flushed now for an entirely different reason. “Thanks to all of us, Hally. We did this together.”

“Allow yourself the credit, Kahlan,” Hally insisted. “Nobody else would have given us this chance. Asked for our help. Trusted us to give it.” 

“Hmm, well then perhaps Cara should get the credit,” she admitted. Where would any of them be right now if not for Cara?

“Oh no,” Berdine’s voice piped in from behind. She approached with Hania and Nyda in toe. “We are not giving Cara credit for anything, that woman’s head is big enough.”

“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black, Berdine?” Hally grinned back. “Your head’s so big, I’m surprised your shoulders can support it.”

“Ah well,” the brunette replied as she came up beside Kahlan. “That’s because its full of knowledge. And Raina can tell you, I have no troubles keeping it up.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Kahlan interrupted before this could go any further astray. “I am going to find Cara.”

“Cara went over the ridge towards the Temple, Mother Confessor,” Nyda offered. “She was looking for the Seeker.”

“I will escort you, Mother Confessor,” Hally said. Quickly adding before Kahlan could protest, “there could still be Dragon Corp in the area. If I let you wander around alone, I will get more than an Agiel for my transgression.”

“We’ll walk with you as well,” Berdine said, tapping the journey book in her hand. “We are going to relieve the guards, and get a head start on thinking this through. 

It didn’t take long to spot Cara and Richard when they reached the top of the ridge. They were above the Temple, where they had placed the Stone of Tears on the Solstice. Cara was standing rigidly. Richard was pacing around. She sighed and started climbing down towards the plateau. She shouldn’t have let Cara do this alone.

She supposed she could understand Richard being upset. Only a few moons ago, he stood here certain their future was together. And to now be standing back here… Her thoughts trailed off and she stood up straight as Richard suddenly stepped forward, right in Cara’s face. One moment he was throwing his hands up, and the next he was gripping the blonde by the throat. 

“What the Keeper…” Berdine swore, immediately pushing down the slope.

Kahlan shook off the shock and took off behind her. Two quick steps and she almost took a header. A strong hand caught her arm while she righted herself. 

“Careful Mother Confessor,” Hally stated. “The earth is loose. You can’t help anybody if you lose your footing and break your neck.”

Kahlan nodded and they both started slide-stepping down the hill. By the time they reached Cara, she was alone and on her knees gasping for breath. Kahlan dropped in front of her, grabbing her by the face. “Cara, are you okay? What happened?”

Cara was breathing heavily. Green eyes came up full of fire. “Richard.” She shook her head. “He tried to Confess me. Then he caught me off guard and…” she trailed off with another angry head shake.

“ _What_?” Kahlan’s mind couldn’t make sense of the words she was hearing. Meanwhile Cara tried to push to her feet, unsuccessfully, stumbling back to the ground, gripping her ribs. Kahlan steadied her by the shoulders. “Cara, don’t move.”

“We have to stop him,” she barked back, taking inventory of her Sisters now gathered around. She tried to stand again, but Kahlan held her down, earning her a scowl. Or at least it was probably supposed to be a scowl. It came out more looking like a grimace.

“Slow down Cara. Tell me what happened.”

“Richard. Tried. To. Confess. Me.” she enunciated slowly. 

Kahlan shook her head. “Cara that doesn’t make sense.”

“ _I know_ , Kahlan. But I know what I saw. What I _felt_.” She paused to take a deep breath. “He has his sword. We never gave it back to him.” She looked up at Berdine. “Check the Temple. I think he did something. I think he took Nicci’s power.”

Without another word, Berdine and Nyda took off towards the entrance. 

“Cara…” her protest died off. What was she going to say? That she must be mistaken? That Richard wouldn’t? Richard had proven himself unreliable and impulsive. And here Cara sat, injured and obviously rattled. She didn’t know how this was possible, but she knew it was true. 

Richard had tried to hurt Cara. Had tried to Confess her. A cold calm settled over Kahlan. “Where is he?”

“He disappeared that way,” Cara gestured to the east of the Temple. “After he kneed me in the ribs.” Concern actually managed to mix in with the anger raging on her features. “He’s out of control, Kahlan. He…. Hey wait!” she called out. “Where do you think you’re going.”

Kahlan was halfway gone and not looking back. She only heard a grunt and a loud, “Go with her!” as she charged after the Seeker.

She quickly picked her way through the scattered ruins of the Pillars of Creation. A flash of red and blonde appeared at her side as she halted, trying to decide which way to go around an outcropping of rock.

“This way, Mother Confessor,” Hally pointed to a series of skid marks in the dirt. And they were off again.

When they came around the corner, the Seeker was there. He was pacing frantically, muttering to himself.

“Richard,” Kahlan said firmly. It took all her self-control not to close the few strides between them and slam him against the rock wall behind. But she needed to find out what was going on. What she was dealing with.

“Kahlan.” The Seeker’s eyes were wild, frantic. “I didn’t mean to. I don’t know…”

“What did you do, Richard?” she stepped forward, tense. 

He heaved out a hopeless sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “Kahlan, please…”

“ _What did you do?”_ she demanded more forcefully, taking another step towards the cowering man. She could feel Hally follow behind her, coiled tight, ready to jump in if the Seeker made one false move. 

Wide, wet eyes met hers. “Last night, I came by to talk to you. About what had happened and… and…” his face contorted in pain. “How could… you’re with _Cara?”_

“ _You_ try to _hurt_ Cara.” She wasn’t interested in discussing feelings with him. Not now. “Cara who has risked her life at every turn to protect you. How could you do that?” Her hands were shaking with rage. She could _feel_ the Con Dar itching to be freed. 

The Seeker’s hands went over his face, fingers pressing at his temples. He was sweating profusely. “I was hurt, and I thought all night about why… How I lost you, _why._ I thought maybe if I did what you wanted…”

“I didn’t want anything from you Richard.” Her words were clip.

He laughed, but his eyes were humourless. He started pacing again. “Of course you did. You and your _duty_. It’s all you talk about! Why couldn’t you just be happy with _us_ , Kahlan? I love you. I could have given you a family…”

“Richard…” Kahlan was seriously considering pulling her daggers. Cara wasn’t joking when she said he was out of control. He was almost jumpy in his movements. 

“So I decided I could try.” He stopped again to look at her. “For you. I thought if I took back my Han, maybe if I claim my title… maybe I can fix this. Maybe I can be what you want.”

A chill went down Kahlan’s spine. He invoked the spell. How did he know what to do? Spirits, how did he even get near it. 

“Richard,” she said cautiously. “I think we should go back to camp. Figure this out. You’ve taken in a lot of power. _Confessor_ power. We need to talk to Zedd.”

“I didn’t mean to Confess her, Kahlan,” he looked down, gritting his teeth. His hand unwittingly travelling to grip the hilt of his sword. “I was just so mad, and I lost control…”

“Which is why we need to get you some help Richard. Maybe we can get the Rada’Han and…”

“I know its this spell… _this bond_. It’s making you feel things you wouldn’t,” he carried on. “How could Cara do this to you? How could you _fall_ for it? Creator, Kahlan, she is a _Mord-Sith._ Can she even actually care?”

“Cara didn’t do anything to me, Richard, you…”

“Maybe she’s infected too.” He was rambling to himself now. “Maybe if I can break this hold the Mord-Sith have on you.” He took a step forward, reaching, and then everything happened in a blur.

Hally stepped in front of her, Agiel first, shielding Kahlan with her body. The Sword of Truth rung as it was pulled free from its scabbard. Hally blocked the Seeker’s downward swing with her Agiel, but the weapons vibrated violently as they clashed. 

“Richard stop!” Kahlan pulled free her daggers, but she wasn’t fast enough.

Suddenly Hally’s Agiel shattered. Richard’s blade continued its arch, and the blonde fell to the ground in a spray of blood. Kahlan didn’t hesitate. She was charging at the Seeker, swinging her blades. Richard in turn, was stepping back, trying to keep out of reach of her advance. Deflecting her daggers with the tip of his sword.

“Kahlan, wait! Stop!” 

She didn’t have a chance to respond before she was taken down heavily from behind. She landed face first on the ground. Red boots stepped on her hands, then kicked away her blades.

“Stop! Don’t hurt her!” Richard yelled.

The weight on her body immediately subsided. 

“We have to get you out of here, Lord Rahl.”

Kahlan quickly regained her bearings and sprung to her feet in time to watch Richard and a blonde braid of a Mord-Sith disappear around the corner. She frantically searched for her daggers, but her eyes landed on Hally. She was laying prone, on her back, hands grasping tightly at her throat.

“Creator, no!” Everything else fled Kahlan’s mind as she hurried to the young blonde’s side. “Hally no!” Even the red leather of Hally’s gloves couldn’t disguise the amount of blood bubbling up from beneath her fingers. Kahlan’s hands quickly moved over top trying to apply more pressure.

Hally opened her mouth to speak but only a choke of air came out. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.

“Don’t talk Hally. Just hold on please.” Kahlan could feel the tears stinging in her eyes, and her vision began to blur. She began looking around for something, anything that could help, but a sputtering noise brought her attention right back to the Mord-Sith. “It’s going to be okay, Hally,” she tried to assure.

Hally only smiled and held her gaze as the light faded from her eyes, and her hands slipped away. Kahlan choked out a sob, collapsed, forehead on top of Hally’s and cried. 

“Kahlan?”

She looked back up, Cara was limping towards her, Hania at her side. 

“Cara! Quick! Help her!”

Seconds later Berdine, Galina, and Raina appeared, taking in the scene with pale faces. Kahlan, laying over Hally, white Confessor’s dress stained with her blood.

Cara stepped forward with a grunt, grabbing her side, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Are you alright Kahlan?”

“I’m fine!” she yelled, still holding close the wound on Hally’s neck. “Why are you all standing there! She needs the breath of life!”

Cara looked down at her fallen Sister, then looked away. A single tear trailing down her face. “Kahlan, her throat has been slashed…”

She looked helplessly between Cara and Hally. Behind she could see Berdine turn her head into Raina’s shoulder. She can’t be gone. Her light. Her smile. Because she was trying to protect _her_ from fucking _Richard._ “No!” She felt the power of the Con Dar pushing at her for the second time that morning. “ _You have to try.”_

“Kahlan…”

“ _Do it!”_ Her eyes must have swirled black, because all of the Mord-Sith but Cara took a step back.

“For crying out loud.” It was Hania who came forward. Dropping to her knees beside Hally, across from Kahlan. She looked at the Confessor once, wearily, before bending over to open the fallen Mord-Sith’s mouth. 

Kahlan kept one hand tight on Hally’s throat and the other gently stroked her cheek, as she watched the bright light leave Hania and entered the younger Sister. She waited a beat. Nothing.

“Come on Hally, come back,” she whispered, as Hania tried again.

Still nothing. Hania took off her gloves to gently brush some stray hair off Hally’s face. Then she glanced back at Kahlan, tears in her eyes, and shook her head.

“Kahlan…” Cara’s voice cracked, and Kahlan felt a fresh wave of tears pushing at her eyes. 

“ _Please_ ,” it was a feeble whine. “Keep trying.”

Hania stared a long moment then bent to the task again, putting her fingers on Hally’s chin and forehead to tilt her head back further.

Something _pulled_ inside Kahlan. Maybe grief, maybe instinct. She could never say why she did something so reckless. But this time when the light left Hania, Kahlan took all her love for Hally, all her hope, and pushed it outward. And with it, went her power. 

Thunder without sound shook the ground. Magic pulsed through the air. Hania’s eyes came up as wide as saucers, as they turned black and then blue once more. Kahlan immediately panicked. “Hania! Spirits!”

She was pale as a ghost, but the appellation never came. “I’m okay,” she croaked out, still staring at Kahlan in disbelief.

“I’m sorry!” she shook her head violently. “I just…”

A cough and sputter interrupted, and all eyes were now staring in disbelief at the blond sitting up between them. 

Hally looked from Hania to her Sisters standing by, to Kahlan, taking in the shocked faces with a confused frown. “What’s going on?”

“Hally!” As if freed by her _voice_ , Kahlan lunged forward and wrapped her arms tight around the Mord-Sith, which only seemed to confuse the young blonde further.

“Seriously? What’s going on?”

“You died Hally,” Raina offered in way of explanation as the Confessor continued to cling to her.

Hally shook her head. “So what, I’ve died before.”

“No, Hally,” Berdine slid her finger across her throat. “You _died.”_

Hally frowned a moment, then her eyes went wide in remembrance. “The Seeker!” She tried to extract herself from Kahlan and stand, but the Confessor wouldn’t let her. 

“You just _died_ , Hally. You’re not going anywhere.” Her eyes travelled up to Cara. Her face had retreated behind the cold mask of the Mord-Sith, but the emotion was still radiating off her.

“I’m going after him.” She pulled both her Agiels, but just the act caused her to grit her teeth in pain.

“Cara, you can’t.”

Her green eyes flashed with anger. “You can’t seriously be thinking of letting him go after this?”

“Of course not. But you can barely walk, let alone run after someone.” Cara scowled but didn’t argue, as Kahlan came to her feet. “And he has Mord-Sith with him. I think. At least two.”

“What? Who?” Cara was looking around now, as if seeking out the betrayers.

“I don’t know. I didn’t recognize the voice. But somebody took me down from behind, and then someone who was definitely a Mord-Sith, stomped on my hands to disarm me.”

“Nobody here would help him, Mother Confessor,” Raina assured. 

Cara only frowned further and pushed forward through the pain to take up Kahlan’s hands for inspection. That was followed by a gloved finger pressing across a scrape she didn’t realize she had on her cheek. It caused her to hiss. “This blood better be Hally’s,” Cara practically ordered as she pulled at the red stains across the front of her Confessor’s dress. 

“It is.” Kahlan couldn’t help soften at the concern.

“Good.”

“Gee, thanks Cara,” Hally muttered from below as she started pushing herself to her feet. Hania helped lend support as she rose. Hally still looked a little washed out as she leaned on her.

“And you,” Cara’s eyes darted to her Sister, reaching out to flick her finger across the blood still drying on her throat. “I taught you better than this. Why was your guard not up?”

In anybody else, Kahlan would be appalled by this bluntness at someone who just _died_ , but she knew this was Cara’s way of coping with almost losing her Sister.

“ _It_ _was_ ,” Hally shot back defensively, before suddenly looking very lost. “His sword… it somehow broke my Agiel.”

Cara took her in a moment, then reached out and jammed one of her own home into Hally’s holster. “Just until you can get a replacement.”

Hally once again looked weak and about to be overcome with emotion. She was alive, but probably still suffering from the immense amount of blood she had lost. “Hania,” Kahlan ordered. “Help Hally back to camp. Get her something to eat and make her rest.” She turned to Galina. “Get Rikka. We are going after Richard.”

“What, no,” Cara’s hand grabbed her arm. “No way.”

“I agree, Mother Confessor,” Hally said before Kahlan could argue. “The Seeker is unstable and wielding power he cannot control. And his only goal seems to be you. You are the last person who should be going near him right now.”

“And we have another problem,” Berdine reluctantly added. “The spell,” she hesitated. “For a lack of a better description, it appears to still be… burning.”

Kahlan sighed and pushed a hand over her face. “The guards? Nicci?”

“Nicci is unconscious, but alive. Nyda is watching over her in case she wakes up.” Berdine glanced back behind her. “The Rada’Han was off. We put it back on, but I have a feeling it is not needed anymore.” She paused again. “The guards were all dead. We were able to revive Jessica with the Breath of Life. Ferland did not make it. And Laurin was Confessed, so we did not try.”

Kahlan bit her lip and looked upwards before her gaze landed back on Cara. She took a moment. Gathered strength from the steady blonde. “Okay,” she breathed out. “Galina, find Rikka. Form a Quad and go after the Seeker, bring him back. If you do not catch him by nightfall, return, you won’t catch him.”

“Yes, Mother Confessor,” her fist pounded her heart. “With pride we serve.” 

Before she got fully turned around, Kahlan halted her again. “And Galina.”

“Yes, Mother Confessor?”

“The Seeker is out of control. Be careful. If he...” She took a deep breath and started again. “Do not risk yourselves. If you have the chance to stop him… do it.”

For a beat nobody moved as the implications of her words settled in. Then Galina pounded her fist to her heart again and was gone. 

Once again, her eyes fell on Cara. The Mord-Sith looked back at her, a mixture of sadness and pride. “Come on Kahlan,” she said. “Let’s clean up this mess and go home.”

Despite it all, Kahlan managed a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so originally my story was going to be everything you see, plus dealing with Richard, pretty quickly, and then ending. But half way through this I decided I was having so much fun, and wanted to continue both exploring Kahlan & Cara's relationship after they got together AND these wonderful Mord-Sith characters.
> 
> So I decided to leave the Richard problem open for something to deal with as we explore life with our favourite ladies some more. (as well as possible other problems yet to be revealed)
> 
> I also was going to cut this story off here, and start a new title for the next part. But since it literally is going to pick up minutes after where I leave it, perhaps that does not make sense, and I will take the advice Valente gave me, and just continue tagging chapters onto this work. I really haven't decided for sure yet, lol, so keep an eye peeled for either option. 
> 
> But what WILL happen from here on out, is you will get chapters at a slower pace. Like 1-2 a month, instead of 1-2 a week. Who knows, at times I may roll a little faster, or maybe even a little slower. But I no longer make no promises on pace.
> 
> Up until this point, I have made this story a priority. I committed to see it through as quickly as I could until my original end. But alas, other parts of life want their share of attention now. 
> 
> Thank you all SO MUCH for all the kudos and especially comments! They feed me, and honestly push me to write more.  
> Remember, its never to late to leave your thoughts on this or any other work out there, by any other writer. Days, weeks, years after, we love to hear what people think of our work. 
> 
> I might take a short break now. But I can't wait to continue this journey with you all. I still have so much inside my head dying to get out!
> 
> Thank you!


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